Those with Glass Slippers
by abovethenightsky
Summary: AU. King Xemnas needs a grandchild. Prince Axel wants some fun. Marluxia wants power. The ugly stepsiblings want a break. And Roxas? Roxas just wants to lose the maid outfit and get out of here. A Cinderella story, AkuRoku style.
1. Chapter I

**Chapter I**

Once upon a time, in a Fairytale Land that Never Was, there lived an old king.

It was easy to tell that he was old, for his hair was gray. And, in fairytales, anyone whose hair is gray must be old. So even though King Xemnas' face was unlined, and he had the build of an athletic youth, he was assumed by most of his subjects to be unfathomably, inexplicably, and terrifyingly old.

This notion was reinforced by the existence of King Xemnas' fully grown son. More on the son in a minute.

King Xemnas, however, knew that the time was near when he would be forced to retire from his throne, as the day was approaching when his subjects would start wondering why their king hadn't keeled over yet. King Xemnas really did not want to abdicate, as he enjoyed the practically limitless power his job allowed him, and if he had to profile himself he'd most certainly designate himself a bit of a totalitarian, but what of that? These medieval monarchies were practically tailor made for abuses of power!

Ahem. Anyway.

King Xemnas had found a way around the problem of abdication. Unfortunately, this solution involved his son producing an heir to the throne.

And Xemnas was about to chastise said son for failing to do just that.

Looking quite regal in his oversized, golden crown and long, red cloak, King Xemnas glided to the room of his son, and knocked on the large, elegant door.

And waited.

And knocked again.

And grew tired of waiting, and, accordingly, did what any reasonable tyrant would do.

He barged in.

His son was in the process of hiding a _Playgirl _magazine under his mattress. Thus caught, he sat himself down in front of the offending object, crossed his legs, leaned back, and tried to appear—as the kids these days would say—cool.

"Yo," he said, giving Xemnas a salute with only his pointer finger.

"Don't 'yo' at me, young man," Xemnas said, maintaining his calm, emotionless façade. "I've come to have a serious talk with you."

"Err." His son shook strands of long, red hair out of his face. "That's all well and good, Daddy-o, but can it wait? I'm in the middle of something."

"Ah, yes." Xemnas eyed the corner of the magazine which was sticking out from under the mattress. "That scintillating publication?"

His son coughed. "I read it for the articles."

Xemnas proceeded to the nearest chair, which, unfortunately, was covered in dirty laundry. He flicked a pair of pants onto the floor and settled back into the chair as regally as he could, treating it as if it were a throne, laying his arms on the thin, wooden armrests as if it were the most comfortable position in the world. "Axel. Please do _try_ to be serious. I'm here on a matter of business."

Axel groaned. "You're not after me having a son again, are you?"

"Well, Axel, you don't seem to have taken an interest in the monarchy. You seem to be much more taken with your…reading. Therefore…"

"You want me to have a son so that I can drop him with you and exit stage Europe," Axel said. "Yeah, yeah, I know. And then you get to rule the throne until the tyke grows up and I get to cavort around, traveling the world and doing as I please. We've been over this a million times, Dad."

"I know." This emotionless thing was getting really hard to keep up. Xemnas had to fight the urge to furrow his brown. "Unfortunately, you don't seem to have taken the initiative."

"Well, nothing against your plan, Dad, but you're overlooking something." Axel swung his feet up on the bed and folded his hands behind his head, leaning back on his pillow. "Girls are boring."

"Now, Axel—"

"But they _are_! You think after we came up with your brilliant idea that I haven't tried looking at all of the girls who parade by me in the marketplace, seeing if I could imagine myself married to any of them? I have tried. It doesn't work!"

"Axel." Xemnas kept his voice firm. "It isn't that difficult. Just find a pretty, simple little creature, take her to bed with you _once_, maybe _twice_. Then you can leave her back here in the Land that Never Was while you go exploring."

"I would do that," Axel mumbled. "And I've _tried_ to do it, but even kissing them is boring. I can't imagine how dull it would be to…'take one to bed,' as you put it."

"This is ridiculous," Xemnas said. "You're twenty-one, Axel. Trying to get you to sleep with a girl shouldn't be this hard!"

"So to speak," Axel muttered, smiling.

Expressionless. Calm. Stoic. Like a mountain. Children were so _difficult, _though. "You need to learn to respect your superiors," Xemnas intoned. "It seems to me that this is simply a matter of finding the right girl."

Axel snorted.

"And if you're not going to do it, I suppose I'll have to take the matter into my own hands."

"You have fun with that, Dad," Axel said. "I'll be in here when you find her."

Xemnas rose as gracefully has he possibly could, and glided out of the room. Walking simply wasn't good enough for a king, and he needed to set an example for his lack wit son. He closed the door behind him. He didn't let his frustration show on his face, but, if one of the royal butlers that never were happened to get close enough, he would have heard:

"What am I ever going to do with that boy?"

---

Elsewhere in the Fairytale Land that Never Was, a young man named Roxas was just waking up. While he was sleeping, he looked just like any other carefree teenage boy. When he opened his long-lashed blue eyes, however, they spoke of another existence entirely—a life fraught with hardship and troubles.

Roxas had once been the only child of an aging nobleman. His mother died in childbirth, but, aside from that tragedy, his early life had been fairly charmed. His father doted on him, and he never really felt that he was lacking much. After all, he had a horse, a series of shy but kindly governesses, and the full run of the mansion, and that all seemed to make up for missing one mother.

Roxas' father, however, felt a little lonely in his old age. And when a visit to the physician revealed that an incurable, deus ex machina-esque disease had been sapping away his remaining life, he did the only thing a gentleman of his age and social status could reasonably do. He hit the town, got completely smashed, and arrived home the next morning only semi-conscious and with a brand new wife on his arm.

Unfortunately, that final act of indulgence pickled his liver, and Roxas' father died that very afternoon, with just enough time to sloppily revise his will so that everything, including the mansion, the horse, and his son, went to his new bride. Even less fortunately, he died before consummating his marriage, and, accordingly, never found out that the handsome young woman he'd wed was, in fact, a pink-haired transvestite named Marluxia.

Delighted at this fortunate turn of events, Marluxia lost no time in moving into the mansion with his two daughters, Vexen and Larxene, only one of whom was actually a daughter. Marluxia then, in true stepmotherly fashion, proceeded to make Roxas' life absolutely miserable.

The home which had once been a playground now seemed more like a prison. Roxas was forced to clean, feed the animals and his step-family (but was there really a distinction there?), keep the Heartless out of Marluxia's sprawling garden, and do a number of other unpleasant tasks. And while Roxas wouldn't have really minded the lighter housework at all—he was slightly obsessive-compulsive and would have straightened all of the damn picture frames _any_way, without being asked—crawling around the forgotten nooks and crannies wielding only a feather duster was, to say the least, a nuisance. Roxas grew tired of the way his blonde hair was always messy, and his nose always had a smudge of soot on it.

That particular morning the smudge was not yet present, as Roxas had fully woken up and was busy cleaning his face in the basin of water on his cheap wooden dresser. Marluxia always liked to see him looking clean. "Dirty staff only reflects poorly upon the household," he'd say, and while Roxas didn't really disagree, he would have called himself a slave rather than a staff member.

Roxas designated himself a slave for three real reasons. The first was that he didn't get paid. While Marluxia promised that he would give Roxas some sort of compensation when the boy turned eighteen, Roxas wasn't inclined to believe him. It was much more likely that Marluxia would turn him out without a cent, or, through some means or another, force him to stay.

The second reason was that he had to do anything and everything which Marluxia, Vexen, or Larxene asked him to do, or risk punishment. A regular employee might worry about getting fired or getting his pay docked, but Roxas had to worry about things like being forced to stand out in the cold for hours or becoming a test subject in one of Vexen's experiments or having to count backwards from 1000 by thirteens or getting spanked by Marluxia, the very prospect of which was simply terrifying.

The third reason Roxas thought himself a slave was because the maid outfit he was forced to wear when cleaning the house was far shorter than any an actual maid would have willingly worn. But that was just the way Marluxia operated.

Of course, Roxas found it strange that Marluxia forced boys into dresses. Vexen had to wear one, too, but Roxas figured that was because Marluxia wanted his son to follow in his footsteps. Roxas, on the other hand, was thankfully not related to Marluxia by blood, so he figured that his stepmother-thing liked looking at him in a short, floofy black dress with frilly lace at the bottom and on the collar. Marluxia also made him wear a white corset over the dress and a little maid hat, along with fishnets, garters, and high-heeled shoes, all of which disgusted Roxas because of their highly anachronistic natures, but seemed to keep his step-family entertained.

Roxas was just lacing up the corset with experienced fingers when the rooster crowed outside of his window. He sighed. Today was the day before trash day, which meant that he had to seek out every wastebasket in the mansion and collect all of the rubbish into one giant burlap sack, and haul it all down to the front of the mansion so that the royal garbage men could pick it up. Roxas didn't really like the royal garbage men. Whenever they passed by the mansion, they always whistled at him and said unpleasant things. He wasn't sure if they thought he was a girl or if they simply didn't care. A boy in drag would certainly liven up the workday of any employee, and as far as boring jobs went, garbage men seemed to be at the bottom of the heap. So to speak.

But before he even thought about taking out the garbage, Roxas had to make breakfast for his evil step-relatives. So, making his way gingerly downstairs, he rapped twice on the doors of each of his stepsiblings and Marluxia before disappearing into the kitchen, breaking open the eggs he'd collected yesterday over a frying pan and buttering slices of bread for toast.

As soon as the coffee had been prepared, the bacon had been fried, the toast had been toasted, and the eggs had been cooked sunny-side up, Roxas shoveled all of the food onto the good china plates, arranged it so that it looked pretty, and set the plates on a tray with the good china cups. Then he drew a deep breath, picked it all up, and proceeded through the double doors into the remarkably ornate and (since the arrival of Marluxia) admittedly floral dining room.

His stepmother-thing was sitting at the end of the table in a blue silk dressing gown. On his left sat Larxene, looking cross. Her normally outlandish but relatively tame blonde hair was always tangled and unmanageable in the morning.

"Took you long enough," she muttered, glaring.

"Good morning to you, too, Larxene," Roxas said, a little too much false pleasantry in his voice. He set her plate in front of her. She liked her toast very well done.

"No need to be snarky, Roxas." Marluxia's low voice was always calm. It may also have been soothing if it weren't so evil. Nothing Roxas did could ever seem to get him truly furious. "Coffee, please."

Roxas put the tray on the table, set a cup in front of Marluxia, and began to pour the steaming coffee. He added just the right amount of milk and then turned to Vexen, who was seated across from Larxene. "Coffee for you, too?"

"Roxas," Marluxia said warningly.

"Coffee for you, too, _sir_?" Roxas amended, fighting the urge to grit his teeth.

"Yes," Vexen said darkly. "Black." There were bags under his stepbrother's eyes. He'd probably pulled an all-nighter again.

Marluxia stirred his—her?—his coffee around with his spoon lazily and asked, not really interested, "How is that new lab assistant working for you, Vexen?"

"Excellently," Vexen replied. "He helped me file an incredible number of reports. I've finally figured out why—"

"That's nice, dear," Marluxia said, cutting him off. He'd always liked Larxene, the younger, better, and probably wished Vexen was a girl, too. Perhaps that was the reason for the dress. "And you, Larxene. What are you planning on doing today?"

"Practicing my knife-throwing," Larxene replied groggily, her mouth full of toast.

Marluxia beamed. "Excellent. A man respects a girl who can cause him bodily harm." He finished stirring his tea and dropped his spoon, quite intentionally, off the edge of the table. "Oh, dear. Roxas, would you get that for me?"

Roxas wanted to glare so, so much, but instead he said, "Yes, of course," and bent down to pick up the silver spoon. Marluxia had been doing this to him ever since Roxas had turned sixteen, probably because, as mentioned before, his skirt was _very_ short, frilly, and entirely too hard to keep decent while bending down to pick up discarded pens or candlesticks or spoons. He wiped the offending object off on his apron and handed it back to Marluxia.

"Thank you. Now, as I was saying," Marluxia said, "Men like a woman who makes them feel inferior. Some _pretend_ to be too proud, and those are the ones who you want to avoid. A man who can get in touch with his feminine side is the one you want to keep." Marluxia beckoned Roxas closer. "Your stepbrother is an excellent example. Roxas, at first you objected to your little costume, didn't you?"

"Yes," Roxas muttered.

"But you learned to accept it eventually."

"I…didn't really have a choice," Roxas chanced, wanting to say _something_ which reflected how he really felt.

Marluxia frowned and opened his mouth to chastise the boy when an audible thump was heard in another room. He closed his mouth and smiled. "Ah, the morning post. Will you get that, Roxas?"

Roxas inclined his head in an almost-bow and scurried out of the room as best he could in his tall, fairly uncomfortable shoes. Passing through a long hallway filled with pictures of Marluxia and his precious children, he made his way into the foyer and opened the large double doors, expecting to see a bundle of parchment on the front step.

Instead, the newsboy was holding them in his hand. Except the newsboy today was actually a rather pimply herald in palace garb, who said, "Hey there, hot stuff. Special delivery."

Roxas shot him a withering look. "Say that again and I'll punch you in the face." He looked down at the bundle of parchment, which didn't appear to be any different from the usual morning paper. "What's the occasion?"

"How am I supposed to know? I'm just the messenger." The herald shrugged and handed the papers over to Roxas, who dropped them on the floor inside the door and made to close it in the other boy's face. A hand stopped him. "I had to see _you_, though," the herald said. "My friends on rubbish told me about _you_."

"Oh, did they?" Roxas attempted to slam the door on his fingers, but the other boy blocked it with his foot, and it wouldn't budge. "How nice."

"Awh, come on, blondie. Don't be so cruel. I just want five minutes. That's all."

"Suck it up. Just because I'm wearing a dress doesn't mean I'm putting out for any guy who looks twice at me. I'm not interested."

"Hey," said the herald, grabbing for Roxas' waist. "Hasn't your step-monster been teaching you obedience?"

"Why, yes." Which was when Roxas grabbed the other boy's wrists and kneed him between the legs. He doubled up in pain, and Roxas used the opportunity to put some distance between them. "Growing up with Marluxia, you learn a lot of things."

And he slammed the door shut.

Sighing, Roxas picked up the parchment and untied the string holding it together. There must be something special in the regular batch of propaganda, otherwise why would the powers-that-be have ensured that every single person received the newspaper? He started walking back to the kitchen, leafing through the upper sheets of parchment.

That was when he tripped over his own feet.

It was just not Roxas' day.

He lay there for a moment, lying among the scattered leaflets, unwilling to get up, wishing he could just go back to bed. Then, almost on cue, he heard Marluxia's voice coming not from the kitchen, but from right above him. "Roxas."

"Yes," Roxas groaned. "I _know_."

He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees and began to crawl around, which was generally what Marluxia wanted him to do when there were things he needed to pick up scattered all over the floor. However, he felt a hand pull on the back of his dress and heard, "Not _yet_, Roxas. What is that?"

Roxas looked up and saw that Marluxia was pointing to an envelope which must have been tucked among the pamphlets. It had a large, red wax seal with a somewhat pointy emblem on it. "Um," Roxas said. "Special delivery?"

"That is a _royal_ seal," Marluxia said, scooping it up himself. "Vexen! Larxene!"

Roxas' two stepsiblings shuffled in from the kitchen, both looking very tired, Larxene, especially, looking grumpy. "Well, Mother, what is it?" she demanded as Marluxia opened the envelope and scanned the letter inside.

An evil smile spread across Marluxia's face. "Girls," he said, addressing both of his children. "Start preparing. We are going to a ball."

---

**Disclaimer:** I only own the plushies.

**_A/N:_** How do I even begin to expain this? I was watching _Cinderella _the other night and it just sort of happened. Oh, well. Happy reading!


	2. Chapter II

**_A/N: _**Yay! Excellent response to the first chapter! Thanks to **Hyperactiveice, Insanecat6, Lanamax Kurosaki, **and **loki lee** for their awesome reviews! Thanks to everyone else who faved and story-alert'd as well. Enjoy the second installment of this crazy silly Cinderella story.

---

**Chapter II**

Prince Axel was furious. He was so furious, in fact, that he really wanted to burn something. And, even though Axel would admit that he was something of a pyromaniac at the best of times, when he was _really _in the mood to burn things, something wasn't right.

Axel stormed into his father's council room, a piece of high quality parchment rolled up in his fist. "Father, what is the meaning of _this_?" he asked, enraged, his voice echoing off of the walls of the dark, ovular chamber. "I want an explanation."

Xemnas, who had been engaged in a heated discussion with his five closest advisors, turned around in his high-backed chair. "Oh, that," he said. "They went out with the morning post. I'm so glad you got one. It would be unfortunate if your own ball was a surprise party."

Some of his advisors snickered at that. Axel rolled his eyes. His relationship with the Council of Five was strained, at best. They were really only there for decoration; Xemnas wouldn't let anyone else control his Land that Never Was, and everyone knew it, except, perhaps, for the Council of Five, who went around with their noses in the air, wearing spiffy black robes which designated their importance. The only person on the Council to whom Xemnas might have actually listened was Saïx, his prime minister, a man who looked like he was part noble, part wolf. The rest were just there to pretend they were being productive.

Glaring at all of them, Axel unclenched his fist, smoothed out the letter, and read, "'All eligible maidens in the Land that Never Was are invited for a chance to have a personal audience with his Royal Highness Axel von Fersenrose de Oxenstierna?' Father, what were you thinking?"

"I told you I would take matters into my own hands," said his father, quite unruffled. "And I have. Don't worry; Xaldin, Lexaeus, and Zexion have agreed to oversee the preparations, so you can just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ball."

Three of the Five nodded. However, this did nothing to calm Axel down. "It doesn't matter! I mean, no offense to you guys—" Every offense. Shame on them for going along with it. _Shame_. "But if the entire party is just going to be a whole lot of girls parading past me, it's going to be the most boring night of my entire life."

"Boring? As _if_," said Xigbar, who was second-in-command after Saïx and sat on Xemnas' left. "You'll still have food and dancing to distract you, and beautiful women like you've never _seen_." He winked at Axel with his one good eye.

"But I don't _want_ to look at beautiful women!" Axel exclaimed. "They aren't interesting!"

"This kingdom _needs_ an heir. Another one, since you're not prepared to take on your royal responsibilities," Xemnas said. "And, if local rumors are to be believed, I'm not getting any younger. So, two nights from now, you will go to the ball. You will meet every girl that never was in this Land that Never Was, and by the end of the night, you will select the one which you like best, based on your own standards. The next day, you will wed her. In nine months, she will have your child. Then, we ship her off to one of our auxiliary castles, and you go off cavorting with whomever you like. Can you think of a better way, Axel?"

Sufficiently chastised, Axel rolled his eyes and dropped his arms by his sides. "No, Father," he said, sullen.

Xemnas nodded sternly. "Saïx, if you would escort my son back to his room. We have a ball to plan, and a country to run."

Saïx took Axel's arm and led him out, but not before he heard his father say, "And now, for the flowers. I know an excellent florist. Zexion, if you would…"

The door closed. Axel glanced at Saïx, but the man was as unexpressive as ever. He and Axel's father were quite the pair. Axel sighed, and allowed himself to be dragged all the way across the palace by the blue-haired man, who, once they'd reached the residential wing, sat Axel down on his four-poster bed and left the room without a backward glance. Oh, Saïx. Efficient as ever. A charmer to the last.

Axel stared up at the ceiling. It appeared that he was trapped. Not that he doubted that his father's plan would work; Xemnas was far too good at this sort of thing. But he really, really disliked the notion of marrying some poor, simple creature and then carting her off to a distant corner of the kingdom. Truthfully, that was why he'd been resistant to the scheme in the first place. Sure, he lacked any carnal feelings for the fairer sex, but they were _people_, were they not?

Besides, a marriage was a sort of binding contract. And if Axel carried on with his usual adventures regardless, he'd feel guilty, because he'd made a promise to someone who was waiting for him in a drafty tower somewhere. Someone who'd had his child.

Wait a sec, this was getting far too sappy. Axel shook his head and tried to think reasonably. There was some sort of clichéd storybook convention clouding his thoughts and making him feel unnecessarily guilty. He instantly reconsidered this whole wife matter.

It was a lost cause, he figured. He'd cross that moral hump when he came to it. It was probably easier to brush off than it seemed in theory.

Axel sat up and rubbed his palms together. "Great. Requisite emotional crisis and moral exposition over. Now that I'm a vaguely sympathetic character, let's see…Well, as long as I'm going to have to go to this ball, I might as well find myself something nice to wear. Can't be wearing that same old suit from the last one."

He stood, found his plainest jacket, which was lying crumpled up in a ball on his floor, and headed out. Perhaps he'd find inspiration in the town.

---

Of all of Roxas' chores, shopping had to be his absolute favorite.

Not because he had any particular love of buying things, mind. He didn't even get to pick out many of his purchases: Marluxia was very specific in the shape, size, brand, color, etc. of whatever he wanted Roxas to buy. And Roxas didn't particularly like being seen by normal people buying roses or yards of pink fabric.

No, Roxas liked the market because he could go out in the _sun_. Unlike the other members of his messed-up family, he loved the sun. After all, Vexen was always in his basement lab, and Larxene lacked the desire to go outside. Even Marluxia, who, Roxas suspected, probably had chlorophyll in his blood, made Roxas carry a parasol to shade him while he gardened, so that his complexion wouldn't be spoilt.

Roxas also liked shopping because it was one of the few times he went out in public, which meant that it was one of the few times he was allowed to wear actual pants. Contrary to popular—well, Marluxia's—belief, Roxas loved wearing pants. They allowed him so much more freedom, freedom to run and jump and behave like any other teenage boy, than the skirts did. Roxas' market costume usually consisted of brown trousers, a white shirt, and a plain blue jacket, although he often added a gray newsboy cap for good measure, just in case someone who'd passed by his house happened to recognize him by his hair.

Boys' shoes were another excellent invention. Roxas adored them. Be they boots or just regular, everyday loafers, he relished the way they actually fit his feet. At the end of most days, his feet were so swollen from the heels he usually wore that he had to soak them in warm water every night before he went to sleep. Not so with regular shoes, which were far more practical and far more comfortable than anything Marluxia forced him to wear.

Marluxia had sent him to the market because they needed new cloth and ribbons for dresses for the prince's ball. And his step-family was far too lazy to do think about actually doing their own shopping themselves. Because, gasp, then they'd have to walk somwhere.

Roxas didn't mind, though. He liked the dust and mayhem of the town square, and he liked looking up at the towers of the grand palace, where the king lived. His hat kept his face clean and made him feel like one of the common laborers, just taking a break from lifting or shoveling or whatever common laborers did. He'd also befriended a couple of street urchins who knew nothing about his home life, and that was fine. It made him feel like he had an actual life away from his evil step-family.

He was also able to get his shopping done quickly because he knew the girl who worked at the ribbon stand, and she always gave him a discount. Then, he could spend the rest of his time in the market doing whatever he wanted.

"'Morning, Olette," Roxas called, addressing the slim brunette rushing behind the counter.

Olette, who had been in the middle of measuring out a fuchsia ribbon for another customer, looked up and waved cheerfully at him. "Hey, Roxas! I'll be with you in a sec, okay?"

"Sure, that's fine," Roxas said, waiting patiently on the other side of the counter. Now that he looked, there seemed to be a good many more women than usual at the market that morning. Some were arguing with merchants, some were gossiping in little groups, and some were busy checking items off of scrawled lists, loaded baskets on their arms.

When Olette approached, he asked, "What's with the big turnout? Does it have to do with the ball?"

Olette giggled, then sighed. "Oh, does it _ever_. The square's been crowded like this since the invitations went out. It's a good day for ribbon-selling. Actually, you're lucky you got here so early. At this rate, I'm going to sell out by the end of the day."

"Yeah." Roxas glanced around again. "The ball's all they're talking about at home. To tell the truth, I'm not quite sure what the big deal is."

"Oh, the glamour, the romance, the chance to marry a handsome prince…I guess it wouldn't appeal to _you_." Olette winked at him. "Boys. I'd love to go, but Hayner would object. I suppose that makes me an ineligible maiden."

Hayner was one of Roxas' urchin friends. He had been sweet on Olette for forever. "You should go. Maybe you could convince him to escort you there."

She sighed again. "I should, shouldn't I? It would be fun. I'd get to dress up and feel special for a night. And besides, there are plenty of eligible girls, so it isn't very likely that the prince would marry me anyway. I could tell Hayner that."

Roxas opened his mouth to protest—he thought that Olette was quite pretty, and that she had a charming personality, and that any prince would be lucky to marry her—when one of the women waiting behind him said, "You should try for it anyway, dearie. That prince is quite the looker. I saw him at a jousting match a couple of years back." She gave a long, rasping sigh. "If I were only thirty years younger…as it is, I'm certainly sending _my_ daughter."

Olette and Roxas laughed at that. "Well, what can I do for you, Roxas?" Olette asked. "As much as I'd love to keep talking, the line behind you stretches halfway to the palace."

Roxas nodded and handed her the list. As she searched her inventory for the right ribbons, the lady behind him asked, "What are you doing with all that stuff, honey? Are you taking some lucky girl to the ball and showing her off in front of the prince?"

"No, it's all for my sisters." Which was partially the truth. Roxas tipped his hat a little lower over his eyes. "My…mother is quite adamant on their attendance. I think that…she…wants to be a royal mother-in-law."

"Don't we all," the woman mused. "Shopping for your mother. Bless your little heart. Any mother is lucky to have you for a son."

Roxas had to bite his tongue very, very hard.

"This is everything, Roxas," Olette said, returning not a moment too soon. She handed him half an armful of ribbon, and he dropped it in the basket and got out the money Marluxia had given him to pay her with. When he tried to hand it to her, she held up a hand. "It's on me this time. Go treat yourself to something. I'll see you next week, right?"

"You don't have to—"

"I _want_ to!" she pressed. Then, lowering her voice, she added, "You look like you've had a rough time of it lately. Go enjoy yourself. I'm making enough today to last me a year."

"Wow, thanks." With his spare change, Roxas was going to buy Olette something really, really nice. He made it a mental promise. "I have to go finish this list. See you next week!"

She waved to him as he left. Oh, Olette. She was always so nice to him. She was always nice to just about everyone. Roxas thought she rather liked taking in strays, which was why she got on so well with Hayner. But she could be such an angel sometimes. Roxas thought that if he ever married a girl, she would be just like Olette. Of course, he had no idea who he was going to marry. He barely had any idea what he was looking for in a love interest. Aside from his town trips and the occasional harassment by royal heralds, his human interaction was limited. So he wasn't sure what his type was at all. He barely even knew whether he liked women or—

His train of thought was cut off abruptly when he walked smack into someone else's chest. He hadn't been paying attention at all. He was knocked to the ground, landing half on his side, and his basket of ribbons went flying and landed a few feet away.

"Fuck," he said, pushing himself up. "Just my luck."

Someone extended a hand in front of his face. He blinked at it. "Hey, I'm sorry," said the person who'd knocked him down. "I wasn't looking out for common—er, people. Need a lift?"

Roxas took the hand, which was rather large compared to his own, and allowed the other man to pull him up. He dusted off his pants, glancing at the ribbons, which were scattered in the dirt road. "Mar's going to be furious," he muttered.

He bent over and started picking them up. "Here, let me help you," the other man said, and started to pick them up as well. "That's an awful lot of ribbon for just one boy."

"It's not _for_ me," Roxas said. "It's for my evil stepsisters."

"That's a shame," said the man, holding up a silky, light blue ribbon. "This one's the same color as your eyes."

Roxas froze. "I'm sorry, what?"

The man shrugged and held up his hands. "Don't blame me for looking. You're very cute."

"Oh _no_," Roxas said, snatching the ribbon out of the man's hand. "Look, thank you for helping me get back on my feet. That was nice. But I've been hit on enough in my lifetime, and I don't need to go through it again here. Good day."

He started to walk off, quickly, in _any _other direction. The man laughed, but sounded vaguely confused. "What makes you think I'm trying to get in your pants, kid? It was just an observation."

Roxas didn't know why he faltered, but he did. He turned back around. "I don't know. People just always seem to do that to me. It's never 'Hello, how are you today?" and always 'Hey babe, why don't you and I go fuck in back of the store?' And I don't _know_ why. I wish I did, so I could make them all stop. So, I'm sorry if I misinterpreted your intentions, but I'm not going to—" He stopped, and realized that he'd just been blurting out his frustrations to a total stranger. His cheeks burned, and he tipped his hat down in an attempt to hide it. "I'm not going to stand here and talk about this anymore. Have a nice life."

"Hey, hey, wait," said the stranger, running forward and grabbing Roxas' arm. "Look, I'm sorry. How about I make it up to you? There's an ice cream place—"

Roxas had been planning on spending his extra money there, but now the option didn't look so appealing. "Sorry, I have to run off to the fabric shoppe."

"I was just going there, too! I need some material for a new jacket." Roxas' disbelief must have shown on his face, because the man added, "It's for the ball."

"Oh. Escorting your girlfriend?"

"Something like that," the man muttered.

Roxas instantly relaxed. That seemed plausible. And if the man had a girlfriend, then he wouldn't be hitting on Roxas. "Sure, I'll show you where it is. Err, sorry about before. I guess I shouldn't have assumed you were trying to…you know."

"No worries," said the man, who was glancing peculiarly off to the side. He coughed. "So, hey, fabric shoppe."

"Right." And with that, Roxas set off in the direction he'd been walking before the unfortunate collision.

The fabric shoppe was located a couple of blocks out of the market square, and Roxas took advantage of the walk to study his traveling companion. The other man was tall, perhaps a few years older than Roxas, with—now that Roxas looked closely—decidedly memorable features. Hair that red and that long would be hard to forget, and there was a strange, upside-down teardrop tattoo under each of the man's piercing green eyes. His clothes were nice, clean and perhaps expensive-looking, and would probably be categorized as fashionably disheveled.

All in all, he was really quite handsome. And he hadn't _really_ propositioned Roxas, which was another point in his favor. It was sort of a pity, now that Roxas was thinking about it, that he had a girlfriend to escort.

"Well," he said, "This is our stop." He stood outside the door of the shoppe.

The man gave him a curious look. "Aren't you going inside, too?"

"Oh, right. Inside. Yes." Roxas was mentally kicking himself. He couldn't allow himself to get so distracted by someone who'd just knocked him over in the marketplace. It just wasn't done.

Of course, this pretty much confirmed that he was interested in men. Marluxia would be overjoyed.

The stranger laughed. "Let me guess. You hit your head when you fell and have yet to fully recover?"

"Err…"

"Hey, I know when _I'm _being checked out. You, my little friend, are a hypocrite." The man put a hand on Roxas' shoulder. Roxas looked away. "There, there. I've been told I am quite dazzling. It isn't your fault."

"The shoppe," Roxas protested.

The man removed his hand and opened the door. "If it makes you feel any better, I don't actually have a girlfriend."

"It makes me feel like you're propositioning me again," Roxas said, walking up to the counter and setting down his slip of paper for the old man who owned the store to read. "And that's not good."

"Hey." Roxas' companion held up his hands. "You can relax, I promise. We've established that I think you're cute, you think I'm cute, and now we can get over it and have actual conversation." He made as if to shake Roxas' hand. "The name's Axel."

"Roxas," Roxas said, but he didn't shake Axel's hand.

"You still don't trust me." Axel frowned.

"I can't help it that I'm a little wary. Like I said, I've had bad experiences."

Retracting the arm he'd extended, Axel set his elbow on the counter and leaned his head on his hand. "Just humor me for a second. Why do you think so many men have hit on you?"

_Because I spend half of my time in a maid fetish costume_, Roxas thought, but he couldn't exactly say that out loud. Not to someone he didn't know. "I'm not sure. You tell me."

"Well..." Axel thought for a minute. "You're short, but you're very well built, and you buy ribbons in the marketplace, which some men who are not quite straight might take as a cue that you'd be receptive to their advances. Also, you have a good facial structure and nice eyes—although I can't see them anymore now that you're hiding your face under that hat. And your hair…" He squinted. "I can't really see much of it, but I'm sure it flatters your face in some way. Oh, and you're young. Young people are infinitely more likely to be hit on than your average person."

"How would you know?" Roxas asked, secretly tickled. "Experience?"

"Oh, no one's ever overtly hit on me," Axel said, waving him off. "With my father around, they wouldn't dare. I've been given that look you were giving me countless times, though, so that counts for something. And, of course, when my father's _not_ around…"

"Your father's controlling?"

"A tyrant," said Axel.

"I have a feeling he and my stepmother would get along well."

Just then, the old man who owned the fabric shoppe returned with Roxas' order. Roxas paid for the fabric and really should have left, but he sort of wanted to stay and chat with Axel. Axel was interesting, and there was something about the way he spoke which caused Roxas to relax. He was so candid, but not in a creepy way. Roxas didn't really get that a lot.

"For you, sir?" the old man asked.

"I, er…" Axel glanced at Roxas. "What do you think? Black?"

"Black," Roxas agreed. "With gold trim, when you finish it. It'll be nice."

Axel nodded. "I like that. Black, please. The finest you have." As soon as the old man had gone to the back of the shoppe, he turned back to Roxas and said, "So your stepmother keeps you locked in an ivory tower, eh?"

"So to speak," Roxas said, unwilling to elaborate. "And speaking of ivory towers, you obviously don't get out to the market much. The finest he has is _really_ expensive. He usually keeps it reserved it for nobles or royalty because they're the only ones who can afford it."

"That won't be a problem," Axel said. "Now, er, don't take this the wrong way, but are _you_ attending the ball on Saturday? You know that all eligible maidens have been invited, and their escorts may accompany them."

"I know. But I am neither an eligible maiden nor an escort. My stepmother's taking my…sisters." Well, Larxene and Vexen. Again, they sort of counted. "So I was planning on staying home."

"Really? That's a shame. I'm afraid I'm going to find it deadly dull." The old man returned with the fabric and named the price. Roxas expected Axel to be shocked by the figure, but instead he paid without complaint, almost without breaking his train of thought. The old man bowed very, very low, and retreated. "It would be nice to have someone to talk to while I'm there."

"Talk to or look at?" Roxas asked.

"Both," Axel admitted bluntly. But instead of being surprised or offended, Roxas smiled. "Do you think you could find away to come? I'd really appreciate it."

"Well, my stepmother probably won't be too happy about it," Roxas mused. "H—uh, she never lets me go anywhere, and I'm not exactly on the guest list for royal balls."

"That won't be a problem. Here." Axel reached into the pocked of his coat and drew out an envelope with a large, red wax seal, which Roxas recognized from the invitation. "I have some connections at the palace. _That_ will get you in."

Roxas blinked. "Really?"

"Absolutely. Just show that to the man at the door, and then come find me. I'll be wearing that black jacket with gold trim. Got it memorized?"

Roxas didn't really know what to say. "Um, yes, I guess. This is all very spontaneous."

Axel laughed and pressed the envelope into Roxas' hand. "That's the best way to do things." He picked up the bolt of fabric and hefted up it under his arm. "I'm going to head home now. I really enjoyed this, Roxas."

"Yeah," Roxas said. "Me, too. It was nice to meet you."

Axel winked at him and left the shoppe, leaving Roxas a little stunned, a little dumfounded, and a little giddy. Suddenly, he found himself very much looking forward to the ball on Saturday night.

---

**_A/N:_** Oh, Roxie, I have a feeling Mar's not going to be too pleased with this development.

Anyway, liked? Hated? Please drop a review! I like to know what you're thinking, good or bad. See you at Chapter III!


	3. Chapter III

**_A/N:_** More fantastic reviews! Thanks to **b4k4 ch4n, Insanecat6, Lanamax Kurosaki, Miss-Lena, **and **loki lee** for their phenomenal reviews. I also want to take a second to thank my lovely beta, Lena, who reads this entire story via IM conversation before it ever gets put online. I'm having fun writing this and I hope you're having fun reading! Enjoy!

---

**Chapter III**

"And that should be all," Xemnas said, about to stand and take his leave. I trust you gentlemen know what to do."

Xaldin, Lexaeus, and Zexion nodded. Xigbar however, said, "Uh, your Majesty, not that I wasn't paying attention the entire time during that three-hour meeting, but what am I supposed to do?"

"Oh, yes, lord Xigbar," said Xemnas, who had forgotten the one-eyed man completely. "Keep an eye on my son. I don't want him getting into any trouble in the next two days. You know how he can be when he's in one of his moods."

"He went into the town a short time ago, your Majesty," said Saïx, who followed the remark with a bow of his head. "I wasn't sure if you wanted me to restrain him, so I let him go. He tends to keep a low profile when he goes to town. He doesn't like being recognized as royalty."

"No, no, that's fine. He might as well 'enjoy' his last days of freedom. After all, he'll soon be married. And, gentlemen, you know how wives are." Lexaeus and Xaldin nodded gravely. Zexion, who wasn't married, didn't know. "Just follow him wherever he goes, lord Xigbar. I want someone watching his every move. We don't want him fraternizing with…the _wrong_ types of people."

"That won't be necessary, Dad."

Xemnas looked over his shoulder. Axel was standing there, leaning against the doorframe, a bolt of black fabric in his arms. "Where have you been?" Xemnas demanded.

"Out." Axel's tone was casual, and he was giving them all a cocky little smile. A few of the Five shifted in their seats. "Just shopping. I just wanted to let you know that I've changed my mind."

"Oh?"

"Yes," Axel said. "I'll be cooperative, if I have to. I won't be leaving the palace for the next couple of days. I might even help out with the ball. Let's see…" He leaned forward to look over Xemnas' shoulder at the notes Xemnas had scrawled on the pieces of parchment. Axel frowned. "No, no, I know red is royal, but it's the wrong theme _entirely_. Except for…the roses, I guess, I want everything to have a blue theme."

"Blue?" Xaldin echoed.

"Yes. A nice, light blue. Like the sky, only a little darker. Deeper. But light." The six men blinked at him. "Blue," Axel insisted.

"Blue it is," his father conceded, internally a bit puzzled.

"Great." Axel began to leave, then turned on his heel and dropped the fabric in Lexaeus's lap. "See that that gets to the tailor," he said, and he walked out of the chamber quietly humming to himself, apparently unaware of the collective look which the Council of Five was giving him.

And awkward silence fell over the room as the six men around the table exchanged bewildered glances. Well, all of them except Xemnas, who more or less remained characteristically stoic.

"Do you think he's finally—" Zexion began.

"No," Saïx said. "It's probably just another boy."

The Council let out a group sigh.

"No matter," Xemnas, at his most regal, said. "Soon enough he will be married off to some girl, and this will all be over."

"Not soon enough for me," Lexaeus rumbled, looking down at the bolt of black fabric in his arms. "I'll find the tailor."

"The florist," said Zexion.

"The royal party planner," said Xaldin.

Xigbar stood. "And I'll go find your son, and keep an eye on him."

"He'd better be careful," Xaldin muttered. "That's the only eye he has left."

"I heard that," Xigbar said, glaring.

Xemnas waved to dismiss them. "You may go, now. _All _of you."

As soon as the four men had filed out of the room, Xemnas turned to Saïx. "Your Majesty?' Saïx asked.

"It's nothing." Xemnas shook his head, which was just about as expressive as he got. "I just never thought raising one son would take so much effort."

---

"Where have you _been_?"

"Out shopping," Roxas said. He couldn't understand Marluxia's anger. Marluxia wasn't usually quick to get angry. When he was annoyed, he was much more passive-aggressive and calculating about it. Not now. Right now, the tone of Malruxia's voice made Roxas want to cringe.

He hadn't even been out very long—it was barely one o' clock in the afternoon. After leaving the fabric store, he'd treated himself to ice cream, bought Olette some pretty, cheap jade earrings, kicked a ball around in an alley with his friends, Hayner and Pence, and headed back. Usually, whenever he went to the market, he was gone until three, and Marluxia didn't care.

"I bought everything you asked," he said, holding up the basket.

Marluxia shook his head. "The dresses will have to wait. Go get changed, Roxas. _Now_. We have a lot of work to do."

Roxas, whose encounter with Axel had left him feeling unnaturally bold, knew when he shouldn't argue, and scurried to the stairs. In his haste, he almost bumped into a boy coming up the stairs, a basket of roses in his arms.

"Oh, woah," Roxas said. "Sorry. I didn't see you." He paused, wondering who on earth the boy could be. "Are you Vexen's new lab assistant?"

The boy gave Roxas a strange look, then shook his silver hair out of his eyes. He looked to be about a year older than Roxas and a bit taller, though not as tall as Axel. "Lab assistant," he repeated. "Not slave?"

"It pretty much amounts to the same thing around here," Roxas admitted. "I'm Roxas. This used to be my house. Now I do the shopping."

"That's a long way to fall."

"Yeah, well…" He shrugged, jostling the basket on his arms. "You are?"

"Riku," said the boy. "I answered an ad in the paper. They said they wanted someone in touch with his dark side."

"Ouch. Please don't tell me you write poetry. The last one did. Larxene threw him off the roof."

Riku shook his head. "I wouldn't try it. Is that her name?"

"Who?"

"The crazy blonde woman with the antennae who kidnapped me and brought me here. Worst damn job interview I've ever had."

Roxas grinned. "Yeah. Mar—Marluxia, that's the one with the hair—usually sends Larxene to do the kidnapping, only because Larx is sick and _likes_ it. And those aren't antennae, they're part of her hair."

"Could've fooled me," Riku said. "Men in dresses, women with knives…it's a really strange place you've got here, Roxas. Think I'm ever going to get out of it?"

"Most of Vexen's lab assistants either run away or end up horribly disfigured." Roxas studied Riku. "I think you'll make it out. You look pretty sturdy. Um…" He looked down at the roses. "Those are Marluxia's best roses. What are you doing with them?"

"Picking off _thorns_," Riku muttered. "God forbid his royal Highness pricks his fingers."

"Wait. What?"

"Oh, you haven't heard yet?" Riku balanced the basket in one arm and brushed his hair out of his face with his fingers. "We've had a huge order placed from the palace for the ball coming up. Apparently, seeing as it's a big, romantic affair, we have to send them a ton of roses. By _Saturday_."

"That makes sense. Mar must have called all hands on deck."

"Well, despite the picking off thorns part, it's nice to get out of the basement for a change. Vexen practically lives down there. I can't get a minute to myself." Riku sighed.

"Roxas!" Marluxia called. "I need you in the garden! Now!"

Roxas started. "Oh, man. I should have been changed by now. Err…" He set the basket with the fabric and the ribbons down on a nearby table. "Nice to meet you, Riku. Um, don't judge the costume, okay? I mean, when I change. I'm not wearing it by choice."

Despite himself, Riku smiled. "I don't think anyone around here does anything by choice. I'll be de-flowering, er, thorning, if you want to talk."

"Ha. Ha."

Roxas ran up the stairs to his room, glad to have someone his own age to talk to in the house. The last couple of lab assistants had been much less friendly. They'd kept to themselves. Or to their poetry. Riku was a nice change.

The change didn't make Roxas any less reluctant to give up his pants, though. He wished Marluxia would let him garden in something practical. He folded them up and set them on his bed, then removed his shirt, set it beside his pants, and slipped back into the skirt. He was just lacing his corset back up when he heard Marluxia call for him again. "Coming!" he yelled. As he squeezed on his shoes, he tried to think happy thoughts.

Axel. Axel was a happy thought. Axel had invited him into the ball. He was going to the ball. He had been invited by a good-looking rich man. Marluxia would be furious. After all, only his daughters should get the good-looking rich men.

Marluxia couldn't know.

Roxas sighed, grabbed his gardening gloves, and headed down the stairs, trying not to trip as he ran. He'd already tripped far too many times that day. When he got outside, Marluxia, wearing his floral gardening dress (distinguishable from his other dresses because it wasn't quite as nice) was waiting for him. Roxas was relieved to see that Marluxia was wearing his wide-brimmed straw gardening hat, which meant that Roxas might not have to be on parasol duty.

"You," Marluxia said. "Keep the Heartless away from the roses."

Roxas sighed in relief. "Yes, ma'am," he said, and went off to find the rosebushes.

Heartless were a standard garden pest in the Fairytale Land that Never Was. They were small, black, and altogether too cute to kill. However, they also had sharp little teeth, and shredded through the leaves and petals of any flower. They were called "Heartless" because they ate the hearts right out of artichokes. Artichoke hearts were their favorite snacks.

Generally, Roxas liked the Heartless. They didn't bother him. Marluxia, however, as a gardener, had a different attitude towards them. And there wasn't much anyone could do to keep the Heartless away. The thing that Roxas found worked best was whacking them on the head with the old, rusty, giant key he'd found in the middle of the garden. It didn't kill them, just left them stunned, and when they came to they'd scamper off to go disrupt someone else's fauna. It was a win-win situation.

Roxas picked up the key and wondered how a boy in a maid outfit with a giant key must look. Then imagined himself chasing Heartless around the rosebushes, and decided he didn't care. Heartless-whacking was _fun_. It was one of the few fun chores he ever got to do. Today was just a fun day.

Marluxia's garden was a sprawling maze of flowers which took forever to get through. There were three or four of Heartless lurking around the roots of the bushes when Roxas arrived. When they saw him coming, one of them leapt for his arm. Roxas swung the key and sent it flying. The little thing landed on its head a few feet away. It sat up, shook itself, and went running the other direction. The other ones seemed a little wary, and started edging away from the bushes, one with a rose blossom in its mouth.

"Okay," Roxas said. "Want me to chase you? I will."

And he did.

He chased the Heartless clear to the other side of the garden, when he had to stop to catch his breath and ease his aching feet. Of course, that was when he found the Neoshadow hiding in a foxhole. Neoshadows, bigger than regular Heartless and a whole lot scarier, could kill entire trees if they were hungry. Roxas knew Marluxia would not be happy.

"Great," he said. "Alright, come on out. I have…" He looked to the side and saw an artichoke plant. Just in season. Of course it would live here. Roxas walked over to the plant and picked the bud off the plant, all the while aware of the Neoshadow watching him from its hole. "I have an artichoke for you."

The Neoshadow was cautious, but the prospect of a tasty treat eventually got the better of it. It emerged from its hole, flying at Roxas, who had already dropped the artichoke and was ready with the key, his feet planted shoulder width apart.

_Bam_.

The key met the Neoshadow's skull. It fell backwards, dazed, its long antennae twitching. Then, it glanced at Roxas and ran off into the nearby forest, taking the rest of the Heartless with it.

Victory was sweet indeed.

Sweaty, disheveled, but feeling his day had been going surprisingly well, Roxas returned to the rosebushes. He was wiping his brow with the back of his hand when he heard someone say, "Nice."

He turned. Riku was sitting on a rock with the basket of roses balanced on his legs. Realizing Riku was referring to his outfit, Roxas put his hand on his hip and raised the key. "You're fair game, too, you know."

"Oh, don't worry," Riku rushed. "You're not my type."

Roxas grinned. "What is your type? Female?"

"Nah," Riku said. "Brunet."

"Stop flirting, you two," said Larxene, who was using her good throwing knives to cut roses off the bush. She looked positively bored.

"Your mother will be disappointed that you don't share her love for flowers, Larxene," Roxas remarked.

"If I'm miserable, brat, we all are," Larxene shot back. "Get over here and help me with this."

"Actually," Marluxia said from behind them. "That won't be necessary."

Riku, Roxas, and Larxene turned. Marluxia stood next to Vexen, who looked quite unhappy to be in his usual black linen dress, but somehow proud. In both their arms were bunches of perfect roses, de-thorned and all.

"Why not?" Larxene asked.

"I've perfected Replica technology," Vexen said. "We can make as many roses as we want without having to pick them."

"But…" Larxene faltered. "_Mother_. You hate Vexen's crazy experiments!"

Marluxia shrugged. "Ordinarily, I wouldn't have gone along with it. However, we're pressed for time, and we have to work on your ball dresses, girls." He sighed. "This is certainly a weight off my chest. Now all we have to do is arrange the flowers, but we can take care of that tomorrow."

"So we can go inside and clean up?" Roxas asked.

Marluxia looked at him expectantly.

"Ma'am," he added.

"You may," Marluxia said. "And wash that costume well, Roxas. It's filthy."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Back to the lab, Riku," Vexen said, seizing the boy by the arm. "We have work to do."

The boy struggled a bit as Vexen dragged him back inside, and down to the basement. Well, he had spirit, Roxas would grant him that. But it would take a little more than spirit to get him out of Marluxia's household.

Roxas followed Marluxia and Larxene back inside. Despite his sweat and his aching feet, he felt better than he had in ages. He'd had one of the most invigorating days in his entire life. He'd gotten to run around hitting Heartless, and he'd met Vexen's new lab assistant, who seemed fun. And he had a date Saturday night.

That was odd wording. A date? Was it really a date?

He considered they way that Axel had been acting around him and decided that yes, yes, it probably was. The very thought made Roxas' heart beat a little faster. He'd never had a real date before, not with anyone, male or female. What was standard procedure for dates? What should he wear? He didn't have nice clothing.

He could sew. Maybe he could make one of his older jackets look nicer and wear that. But how?

And then he remembered what Axel had said about that ribbon.

Glancing left and right to make sure no one was watching, he snuck back over to the basket and removed the ribbon carefully. Surely if he only used a little, then replaced it, Marluxia wouldn't noticed that it was gone. Before he could stick around long enough to get caught, he ran back up the stairs and slammed the door to his room.

For a few minutes, Roxas just lay on his bed, thinking. This had been an extraordinarily good day. Marluxia hadn't reprimanded him for anything, he hadn't broken the hell of his shoe, he hadn't been seriously injured when he tripped, and he met someone in the marketplace who seemed to like him quite a lot. If he were even luckier, he might be able to get away with wearing pants while his costume dried.

Sitting up, he removed his stockings, his corset, and his dress and washed his face in the basin. Then he added some detergent, and let the dress soak. He pulled on the pants he'd wore earlier that day and flung open the window to his room to let the remaining sun in, choking a little on the dust which flew into his face. Marluxia's garden had never looked as beautiful as it did right then in the fading daylight. Roxas sat there and watched it for a few minutes before heading over to his closet.

He found a white jacket, nice, which Vexen had purchased once and Marluxia had promptly confiscated. Roxas had salvaged it. It was a little big, but just a little, and he could fix that. He was just trying to figure out how much ribbon he'd need to spruce it up when there was a knock on his door.

Panicking, he flung the jacket into the closet and stuffed the ribbon in his pocket. Then, without bothering with a shirt, he unlocked his door and opened it. Marluxia was standing there, his hands on his hips.

"Roxas," he said. "I think you've taken something which belongs to me."

He held out his hand. Roxas swallowed. "What would that be, ma'am?"

"A piece of ribbon." Marluxia sneered. "I sent you out for it earlier today. Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

"It might…have…fallen out of the basket?" Roxas tried.

"So you were careless?" Marluxia asked. "Roxas, you know what happens when you're careless."

Roxas really, really didn't want to get spanked. He swallowed again and stuck his hand in his pocket, withdrawing the ribbon and handing it over. Marluxia took it. "Good boy. Of course, _thieves_—"

"I gave it back, didn't I?"

"You did." Marluxia glared. "See that it doesn't happen again." Then, an odd expression crossed his face. "What else do you have in your pocket, Roxas?" he asked.

Roxas looked down. The corner of the envelope Axel had given him was sticking out. He should have folded it up better. "Just a scrap of parchment," he said. "For the new apothecary. They…were…handing them out at the market, and—"

In the blink of an eye, Marluxia reached out and grabbed Roxas' wrist, holding him in place. He reached forward and removed the envelope from Roxas' pocket. Roxas couldn't watch.

"What is _this_?"

"Just a letter," he muttered. "_Please_, you're hurting me."

Marluxia didn't release Roxas's wrist. "If it was just a letter, why would you lie?" he asked, unfolding it. His eyes flashed when he saw the seal. He began to break it open with one of his long nails. Roxas' heart was beating in his ears.

Marluxia scanned the letter. "It says that you've received a _personal_ invitation to the ball," he said. Then, he adopted a sugary sweet tone. It scared Roxas more than anything. "How charming. Who gave you this, Roxas?"

"Just…a man…I met in the marketplace."

"Really." Before Roxas could even react, Marluxia had his arm twisted behind his back. Roxas cried out in pain. Marluxia was much, much stronger than he looked, far too strong for a man who wore heels. Marluxia's nails were digging in to Roxas' wrist. "And did this man have a name?"

"Axel," Roxas choked.

Roxas could feel Marluxia's surprise, but he couldn't understand it. "Well," he said. Then he pushed Roxas to the ground. Roxas fell on his back, hitting the wood floor with a thud.

"You _dare_," Marluxia hissed. "You dare steal from me. You dare sneak around, behind my back, without my permission, trying to steal something which should rightfully belong to my daughters—"

"What?"

Marluxia planted one heeled shoe in the center of Roxas's chest. "Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about, you little—"

"I _don't_!" Roxas cried. "Get the hell _off _of me!"

This seemed to placate Marluxia a little, as he removed his heel and regarded Roxas thoughtfully. "Fine," he said. "I'll buy it." Then he leaned over Roxas. "Remember that I'm only trying to protect _you_, Roxas," he murmured. "You don't know where those strange men in the marketplace have been."

"I don't have to listen to you," Roxas muttered.

"Roxas." Marluxia's eyes narrowed. "You're not eighteen _yet_. Your father entrusted you to my care. That makes me the only person you should be listening to. Not strange men named Axel who invite you to balls." He tipped Roxas' chin up with his finger. "Remember, mother knows best."

Roxas looked away.

Marluxia stood up. "As for this envelope, I think it will find a happy home in the fireplace. And as punishment for your thievery and for lying to me _repeatedly_, you will spend Saturday night cleaning this entire mansion from top to bottom. Am I understood?"

"I hate you," Roxas spat.

"That's a yes, I assume." Marluxia turned to leave. "Oh, and Roxas, I'll need you downstairs to help with the girls' dresses. I think Larxene will look lovely in blue, don't you?"

---

**_A/N:_** Mar, you evil. This scene actually reminds me a _ton_ of something I wrote in a different story, which you may get to see after this one is done. That one involves Mar being a creepy instead of a fruitcake.

Next chapter involves the introduction of the "fairy godmother." Any guesses as to whom that might be? :)

It might take a couple of days to update, homework is picking up. :(. But...if you review, I will love you forever. Enjoy your week!


	4. Chapter IV

**_A/N: _**Well, that took an obscenely long time. So sorry for the wait! As a bonus, this chapter is about 1,500 words longer than the last one, _and_ it has a bonus third section in it. But you will see what that is all about when you get there.

Thanks to **loki lee, XxGoldenAngelxX, Mitsuru Aki, Silver-Excalibur, Lanamax Kurosaki, Insanecat6, **and **b4k4 ch4n** for their reviews! They made me so happy throughout this super draggy week. Also, thanks to all of you who have alert'd or faved this story - I am so grateful; I love knowing that people are reading.

The three candidates I heard for fairy godmother were Naminé, Sora, and Demyx. And, guess what? They _all_ show up in this story in some form or another. However, only one of them is Roxas' fairy godmother. Who? Well, you'll have to read and find out. ;]

---

**Chapter IV**

The day of the ball dawned clear and warm, without a cloud in the sky, and Axel was in a surprisingly good mood, considering that he would soon be stuck in a room with hordes of women, all trying to figure out the best way to make the best impression. Well, he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

Axel was currently surveying the grand ballroom, which had been decked out in just the right shade of blue. The florist, too, had done her job; the roses were flawless. Axel removed one from a vase, tossed it up in the air, and caught it without being pricked. He studied the stem. No thorns. Huh. Modern advances in horticulture were fascinating.

Looking around the room, Axel was quite pleased with the blue. It had turned out so nicely, much more nicely than red would have. He wondered if Roxas would notice. He wondered if Roxas would be flattered.

Actually, he wasn't quite sure where he was going with Roxas. The kid was cute, sure. Maybe he'd be good for some conversation. Maybe he'd even be good for more. But just for one the night, perhaps, or maybe for two. Axel didn't really do long-term relationships. They weren't his style.

Even so, he would be happy to see Roxas again. He was so easy to talk to, and he'd be a welcome distraction from all of the girls at the ball. Axel thought of how Roxas would look, wearing nicer clothes, his face clean, his hair visible. Surely he would be much more interesting to stare at than any of the ladies and princesses. Maybe Axel could persuade his father to let him keep Roxas close by.

If Roxas could even show up, that was. He hadn't seemed at all certain that he'd be able to attend. Apparently, his wretched stepmother might keep him home. Well, whatever happened, happened.

"Prince Axel!" Xigbar called.

Axel turned, unsurprised to see the other man, who had virtually been his shadow for the last couple of days. "Yes, what is it?"

Behind Xigbar stood a gaggle of young women. Axel sighed. Where the guests arriving already?

Xigbar bowed low, and a tad mockingly, or so Axel thought. "I hope your Highness will pardon me for the intrusion," he said. "These young ladies were just _so_ eager to meet you." He smiled. "They're fresh off the boat from the kingdom of Heart."

"I didn't know we were inviting foreign princesses."

"When you're a foreign princess, you can invite yourself," Xigbar remarked. Then he bowed again, and stepped aside. "Ladies."

Axel eyed the seven girls, who curtsied, then arranged themselves in a line. For starters, physically, they were not incredibly alike. Their hair and eyes came in all sorts of colors from all over the spectrum. They ranged from fine blonde to brunette, and dark brown eyes to eyes of the lightest blue. One girl's skin was much darker than that of any of her sisters, especially that of the one on the far right, whose skin was as white as snow. He looked down the line. The only thing they all seemed to have in common—even their outfits were greatly varied—was their age. Six of them looked to be about eighteen, perhaps a little older, although Axel couldn't imagine they were sextuplets, as different as they were. The last sister, who was shorter, and had reddish-brown hair, appeared to be a little younger, and it was she who stepped forward to speak.

"Your Highness," she said, her voice very teenage, but her bearing quite regal. She placed a hand on her heart. "My name is Kairi, and I am the youngest of the seven Princesses of Heart. On behalf of my sisters, Snow White, Belle, Cinderella, Alice, Jasmine, and Aurora," –each sister nodded as she was named— "I would like to thank you kindly for this great honor, and add that all of us are very much looking forward to dancing with you at the ball tonight."

The girls giggled. A couple sighed wistfully. Axel glanced desperately at Xigbar, who raised an eyebrow, as if to say "behave." Axel swallowed his pride and said, "Thank you, princess. It is an honor to finally meet the legendary Princesses of Heart. Although I must say, you are all _much_ lovelier in person."

He took Kairi's small, white hand in his own, and kissed it. The girl blushed, and her sisters giggled again, glancing at each other, hiding grins behind their dainty fingers. Xigbar cleared his throat. "Alright, girls. Go freshen up. I'm sure the prince is very busy."

"Very," Axel agreed, his smile plastered on his face. "As much as I'd love to remain in the company of such charming princesses, Lord Xigbar and I have work to do." He bowed. "It was a pleasure."

The girls curtsied again and scurried off in the direction from whence they came, and Axel could hear snatches of "How charming!" and "Isn't he handsome?" Well, Xigbar should be happy.

Or not. "Laying it on a thick there, aren't you," said Xigbar, who was watching the princesses leave.

Axel shrugged. "While you're here, Xiggy, I have to be polite, don't I? My father's watching."

"Clever boy." Xigbar smiled.

"You don't trust me." Axel tossed Xigbar the rose he'd been holding and crossed his arms, frowning. "And why not? I've been well behaved. I haven't left the palace. I haven't even flirted with any of the guards! What gives?"

Xigbar picked a petal off the rose and flicked it. "All of that," he said. "You've been far too good. Something's up." His single eye glinted. "You're inviting someone to the ball."

"Oh, come on. Can't I do that? It's _my_ ball."

"I know. And, truthfully, I feel for you." Axel snorted. Like he believed _that_ one. "But I'm supposed to make sure you keep your eye on the prize. And if you didn't notice, seven lovely prizes just walked off that way."

Axel scowled. "I thought I was the prize."

"It's all the same," Xigbar said, shrugging. "Anyway, you should go get changed. Wouldn't want to be late."

"No," Axel replied, his voice a little strained. "I wouldn't."

He could feel Xigbar smirking at his back as he walked back to his room. Thinking of the seven princesses he'd just met, he was suddenly very, very desperate for Roxas' company. Axel thought he might die of boredom, or, perhaps, humiliation, if the boy didn't show.

---

"Roxas!"

Roxas dragged himself into Larxene's room, barely fazed by all of the sharp, pointy objects she kept always around. The Bitch Queen herself was sitting in front of her mirror, clawing at her hair. "What is it?" Roxas asked, his voice emotionless.

Larxene raised her eyebrows. "My, aren't we touchy today?" Giving up on her hair, which was always full of static and impossible to tame without using a ton of product, she threw her hands into her lap and demanded, "Fix it."

Without protest, Roxas grabbed a stool and pulled it over. Larxene sat in front of him as he grabbed the brush and started combing the tangles out of her still-wet blonde hair. As he worked, Larxene fiddled with the ruffles around the collar of her dress. She was not a ruffles sort of girl, and she kept adjusting them, puffing out her chest and studying herself in the mirror. After all, she was the only one in the family who actually had cleavage, so dresses did look best on her. Little did Marluxia know that she wore combat boots under them. Roxas knew, but no one ever asked him.

Roxas supposed that the real reason she kept fiddling with her dress might be that she was trying to provoke him. After all, her dress had ended up slinky and midnight blue, with the lighter ribbon Roxas had tried to steal for accents in certain places, such as around the collar. Roxas was _not_ going to give her the satisfaction of a reaction, however, and his hands remained steady and even as he brushed her hair.

"Marluxia wants me to put your hair in a bun," he said, gathering her hair in his hand and twisting it. "I'm going to need some pins."

She jabbed his hand on purpose when she passed them to him. Roxas sucked on it for a second, but did not pause otherwise, instead working them into her hair, resisting the urge to dig them into her scalp. Larxene seemed disappointed, and switched tactics. "I guess you're not going to get to see your little boyfriend tonight."

"I don't have a boyfriend."

"Of course not." Larxene smiled. Roxas tried terribly hard to ignore her. "That's not what Mother told me. She said you were going to find yourself some rich man to take you away, preferably one who likes to see you in your little…outfits."

"Larxene," Roxas managed, through teeth which were clenched anyway because he was holding the pins in his mouth. "Don't."

Larxene chuckled. "Well, you can forget about _that_," she said. "After all, when I'm queen, I think I'll give you away to someone who really deserves you…maybe to Mother, as her _personal_ maid."

Roxas began to add tiny rhinestones to Larxene's hair. "What makes you think you're going to be queen?"

"Well, who else will? Vexen?" She laughed. "No, when I'm dancing with the prince, I'm going to make him an offer he can't refuse. We'll be married by morning." Smirking, she added, "And you are not invited to the wedding."

Larxene as queen? It would be awful. Roxas pulled a little too tightly on his stepsister's hair, and all of the pins and stones, already precariously placed in Larxene's short hair, went flying across the room. Some bounced off of the various knives and were deflected in all directions. Roxas had to duck to avoid them and to prepare for Larxene's wrath.

"You little brat!" Larxene shrieked. "My _hair_!"

And that was when she lunged.

By the time Marluxia saw fit to intervene, Larxene had Roxas in a headlock and was reaching for one of the knives on her dresser. Marluxia crossed his arms. "Larxene, let him go. You don't want to get blood on your new dress. It will ruin the ribbon."

Larxene reluctantly dropped Roxas, who fell to the floor and rubbed at his throat. "Thank you, ma'am," he muttered, ashamed to be thanking Marluxia for anything.

Marluxia looked equally unhappy to be coming to Roxas' defense. "You," he said crossly. "Go. Vexen is being difficult. You know what to do."

Roxas sighed, picked himself up off the floor, straightened his skirt, mustered as much dignity as he possibly could, and stalked past Marluxia and out of the room.

After a few minutes of searching, he found Vexen sulking in one of his basement labs, the red ball dress Marluxia had made for him crumpled on the floor. "I've had enough of this ridiculousness," he declared, utterly refusing to wear it when Roxas asked him very politely if he would reconsider. Sighing, Roxas enlisted the help of Riku, whose hands were still sore from de-thorning, and together they were able to gather all of Vexen's precious research files and position them over the fire in the fireplace. Vexen was suddenly much more willing to cooperate.

After he had donned the gown, however, Vexen grabbed Riku by the arm and practically threw him into one of the auxiliary rooms, which had been converted into a sort of dungeon for wayward lab assistants. As Vexen stalked off, muttering angrily to himself about dresses and research and collecting his scattered files, Roxas pressed his nose to the door.

"I'll let you out as soon as they're gone," he promised.

"Alright," said Riku's muffled voice. "I won't be going anywhere."

Roxas nodded and caught up with Vexen, who was after much effort persuaded (threatened) into sitting down and letting Roxas do his hair.

"I'm not thrilled about this either," Roxas admitted, brushing out Vexen's long, brown hair. "I'm just going to put it in a bow. Nothing awful."

"But this is preposterous!" Vexen exclaimed as Roxas tied his hair back in a bow, leaving two long bangs hanging down in the front. "I'm not an eligible maiden. Look at me!"

Roxas did. Vexen's qualifications as a maiden aside, he barely looked eligible. He had always appeared to be older than he actually was, and long days and nights working in the lab had left heavy bags under his eyes and turned his complexion sallow. Roxas had dabbed some powder on Vexen's cheeks, but it had barely helped at all, and Vexen just looked like a miserable man in makeup and a dress.

"So go, and get rejected," Roxas, who couldn't care less, suggested.

"I heard that," said Marluxia, coming over from the laboratory door. He wore a green dress with pink flowers for the occasion, which was practically sparking with small, fake jewels. His matching pink hair was feathered out around his face but tucked back in a similarly glittery headband.

Vexen stood, knocking Roxas aside. "Mother, this is completely unreasonable. I am _not_ an eligible maiden!"

"Nonsense, darling. Or course you are." Marluxia pushed Vexen out the doorway. "Now go on upstairs. The coach is waiting."

Vexen sighed and stomped up the stairs. Marluxia grabbed Roxas by the ear and dragged him up after. "And _you_," he hissed. "The floors should be shining by the time we return. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good," said Marluxia. "But first, the vegetable patch needs weeding. Take a lantern out with you. And don't pull up the celery."

"Yes, ma'am," Roxas muttered. They had reached the foyer, where Larxene, flexing her claws, and Vexen, positively wretched-looking, were waiting for their mother.

"Excellent." Marluxia turned to his children. "Now, girls, let me see you curtsy."

Larxene swept a low, exaggerated curtsy, which displayed her cleavage to its finest degree. No doubt Marluxia had taught her well. Noting that Vexen had done nothing, Larxene elbowed him in the gut, forcing him into a sort of bent-kneed half-bow. Marluxia nodded his approval.

"Very good. Hurry on into the coach. We wouldn't want to keep your future husband waiting." Mar began ushering Vexen and Larxene out the door, then looked back and added, "And Roxas—"

"Don't leave the mansion grounds," Roxas finished.

Marluxia smiled wickedly and disappeared through the door. A minute or so later, Roxas heard a coachman's "Hyah!" and the clopping of horse hooves on the cobblestone drive. He was filled with sudden, inexplicable anger, and he knew that he should get started cleaning and, more importantly, let Riku out, but Riku could wait a few minutes for Roxas to simmer, couldn't he?

Roxas stormed out into the garden, which seemed mightily eerie with the moonlight reflecting off of the leaves and closed flowers. The four or so Heartless looked up from where they were gathered around the cabbage patch, nibbling at leaves. Seeing that Roxas was unarmed and was not going to chase them, they went back to their dinner, squeaking every now and then to indicate their contentment.

Ignoring the gardening gloves, which were resting in a cubbyhole, waiting to be used, Roxas plopped down in the dirt, wanting to scream. It wasn't _fair_! He hadn't been planning on running away, or stealing anyone from anyone else, as Marluxia claimed he was. He just wanted to spend some time at the ball, feeling special, in the company of someone who liked talking to him and looking at him, not just one or the other. The night was cold, and Roxas was terribly lonely. Axel would have been good company at the ball. Sure, they wouldn't have been able to dance like the other couples, but wouldn't just being with someone who liked him have made the party worth it?

"It's not fair," he whined, picking up the old, giant key. The Heartless looked ready to bolt, but Roxas wasn't coming after them. Instead, he buried the teeth of the key into the trunk of a giant oak, relishing the feel of the key biting into the bark. This was the only power he had. If he ran to the ball, even if he ran away, Marluxia would bring him back. There was no way. He couldn't do anything! He struck the key again.

"It's not fair!" _Whack_. "I hate this!" _Whack._

Realizing that even the whacking was futile, Roxas sat back down on the ground, leaving the key embedded in the bark, and curled his knees up to his chest. "I wish there was some way I could go to the ball," he muttered.

"You do?!" someone behind him said. "Then why didn't you say so before?"

Roxas turned around. There was a boy standing in the middle of Marluxia's vegetable patch. A boy with spiky brown hair, who, otherwise, looked suspiciously like Roxas. A boy with suspiciously nice, clean clothes for someone standing in a garden. However, the most suspicious thing about the boy was by far the pair of white, gauzy, butterfly-esque wings sticking out of his back, and the glow which seemed to surround him.

Roxas blinked, unsure whether to ask about the wings first or to try to excuse his own maid costume. He settled for, "Um, who are you?"

"I'm your fairy godSora!" the boy exclaimed.

"Uh." Roxas didn't think he'd heard correctly. "My what?"

The boy sighed. "Technically, I'm supposed to be your fairy god_mother_, but she's off having a hip replacement. So they chose me instead. I'm a fairy godperson too, but I'm more like a fairy godyou than a fairy godmother. I mean, do I look like a mother?" He held out his arms so Roxas could look at all of him. "No. But I look like you. Actually, I am you. Sort of. It's kind of tricky to explain. Anyway, I don't want you to call me 'fairy godme,' because that would be weird. So call me fairy godSora. Or just Sora. That's my name." Sora thought for a bit. "Actually, you could call me 'fairy godself'…that would work…"

"What are you doing in Marluxia's vegetables?" Roxas asked, dumfounded.

"Oh, whoops." Sora glided out of the vegetable patch. The Heartless scattered and went to go hide under the shadow of the oak. "Although it would probably serve him right if I did ruin his vegetables. He's been awful to you."

"Tell me about it," Roxas said, deciding to go along with this lunatic. "So, Sora, what can I do for you? Err…ignore the costume…"

Sora didn't even hear the last thing Roxas said. "Oh, no, it's not what you can do for me. It's what _I_ can do for you!"

"Well, what can you do for me, then?"

Sora grinned. "I can get you to the ball," he said. "So the handsome prince can fall in love with you, rescue you from your evil step-family, and you can all live happily ever after! Except maybe your step-family."

"The _which_ prince?"

"The handsome one," Sora said. "The entire reason that King Xemnas is having this ball is so his son marries someone. And he might as well marry you!"

"But…I'm male," Roxas said, puzzled.

Sora waved him off. "Not an issue."

"O…kay…" Roxas decided that this Sora had probably escaped from the local insane asylum. Or, rather, he would have decided that, except the wings and the glowing were points in favor of Sora's fairyhood. So Roxas decided to focus on the part that actually made sense. "But you can get me to the ball?"

"Yup. Only you'll only be able to stay until…a quarter to twelve, I think."

"Why?"

"It's like this." Sora walked over to the oak, and the Heartless ran back to their vegetable patch and cowered behind the cabbages. The handle of the old key shone dully at Sora in the moonlight. He tugged on it, and it came away easily. Not only that, but the years of rust and neglect were washed away, so that it almost glowed, good as new, all shiny gold and brass. "This is a Keywand. I can do magic with it. You know, fairy godperson magic." He sighed. "The trouble is, I'm only a Level 14 Fairy GodSora."

Roxas was beginning to get a little impatient. He didn't need to know this. Sora didn't really need to get him much extra time. After all, what difference would, say, fifteen minutes make? He spoke out of politeness. "What does that mean?"

"Well, it means that I'm not very strong yet," Sora said sheepishly. "But if you had some Heartless I could whack with my Keywand, then I'd get some experience points and I might level up. Are there any around here?"

"Behind the cabbages," Roxas said. The instant he did, he regretted it. "Don't hurt them too much. Marluxia doesn't like them, but I do. They really aren't so bad to have around, and I don't like artichokes anyway."

"I won't hurt them _too_ much," Sora promised. "It would be awful if I ended up doing your step-monster a favor."

Sora approached the Heartless very, very slowly, Keywand first, and Roxas could swear he saw the four of them huddle together in something like fright. Then, with a "Take that!" "Hah!" "Huh!" "Here!" the four of them were lying limp in a heap behind the cabbages. Roxas scrutinized them carefully for signs of life and saw one's foot twitch.

"They'll be okay," Sora, who seemed to glow a little more brightly, assured him. "On the bright side, I'm Level 15 now! So whatever spells I cast on you will last until midnight."

"Great!" Roxas exclaimed, enthusiasm beginning to return. "So, the ball."

"Oh, right, that. Let's see…the first thing you'll need…" Sora looked Roxas over, head to toe. "Are four horses!"

Despite himself, Roxas felt like this was just getting less and less believable the longer they carried on. "Why? What for?"

"To pull your carriage!" Sora exclaimed. "And I think these four Heartless will do nicely." The Heartless, who had just been beginning to stir, immediately went limp, playing dead. "Oh come _on_. This won't hurt." Sora pointed his Keywand at them. "Okay, on the count of three. One, two—"

Something glowing and pure shot out of the front of the wand and enveloped the Heartless, who squeaked in alarm as they grew and grew in size, as their legs lengthened and their torsos thickened and their bodies sprouted fur. When the glow faded, four black horses were bright yellow eyes were trampling Marluxia's cabbage patch, apparently trying to figure out how their new feet worked.

"Wow," Roxas said, genuinely impressed. "But, um, I don't have a carriage yet." Sora blinked, and Roxas added, "For the horses?"

"Oh, I knew that." Sora scratched his head. "What can we use for a carriage? Let's see…we have vegetables, but if we use those the Heartless will eat your coach. Um…wait, I think I've got something!"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, star-shaped fruit which Roxas had never seen before. "It's a Paopu fruit," Sora explained. "Heartless don't like them. Here."

He touched the tip of his Keywand to the fruit and dropped it on the ground. It swelled up until it was taller than either of the boys, somehow, in the process, gaining wheels and a door. When it had finished growing, Roxas stared. The fruit had somehow turned into a large carriage, grand, black, to match the horses.

"Of course, you'll need a coachman and a groom," Sora continued. "Did you know there are Neoshadows in that foxhole? Well, not anymore." He pointed his Keywand at the hole, fired off another burst of light, and two coachmen appeared, their uniforms also black, their hats with long, squiggly antennae on top. They seemed vaguely confused as to how they got that way, and busied themselves with examining their new hands.

"They look so _real_," Roxas marveled.

"Well, they are." Sora planted his Keywand in the ground and looked proudly at what he'd created. "But remember, this all goes away at the stroke of midnight."

"I'll remember," Roxas replied. "But, um, aren't you forgetting something?"

Sora blinked.

"My clothes?" Roxas prompted.

"It's not a costume party?"

"No!"

"Right!" Sora said, clapping his hands together. "Of course it's not! Well, that changes everything. You can't go to a nice ball in a maid outfit. Hold on. For this, I think I'll need some magic words. Bibbity—boppity—boo!"

He pointed the Keywand at Roxas. Roxas closed his eyes and felt something warm and tingly spread out through his entire body. When he looked, he saw that his hands were clean. Or rather, they felt clean. They had clean, simple white gloves on them, too. But his legs were in—no, that couldn't be right. Roxas went over to the small fishpond to examine his reflection.

It was right. Sora had put Roxas in a dress. A poofy blue dress, with numerous petticoats, and puffy princess sleeves, the outfit completed with white gloves, heeled, glass shoes, and a little tiara sitting on Roxas' hair. Roxas was even wearing a corset, albeit under the dress, only this one felt like a proper overbust corset, instead of the underbust one he usually wore. Ironic, since Roxas didn't have a real chest. Since Roxas wasn't a girl.

"Sora…" he began, unsure exactly how to react. "Not that I'm not grateful for all of your help, but you put me in a dress!"

"I know," Sora chirped. "It even matches your eyes. But wait, you're missing something." In two steps, he crossed to Roxas and stuffed two wads of paper where the corset called for breasts. "There. Finished."

"_Why_?"

"Because we have to fool everyone into thinking you're a girl!" Sora exclaimed. "Otherwise your evil step-monster will recognize you, or you'll never get to dance with the handsome prince, and he'll never fall in love with you!"

"But, Sora—"

Sora steamrolled over Roxas' objection. "Of course, if he tries to take your dress off, just slap him, like a good girl would!"

"Sora!" Sora blinked, and Roxas sighed. "I'm not going for the handsome prince. I'm going because I met a guy at the market who wanted to see me again at the ball. I don't need to make the prince fall in love with me. So can't you put me in pants?"

His mouth opening and closing like a frog's, Sora didn't seem to know how to react. Finally, he shook his head and said, "No. You're going to the ball and the prince is falling in love with you. That's the way it works in all the fairytales, and that's the way it's going to work now." He seemed so resolute, but a little confused. "Besides, isn't that your greatest wish?"

Sora looked so pathetic—and he was obviously so new at this—that Roxas felt pity for him and shook his head. After all, he could always make some kind of excuse to Axel about his clothing, couldn't he? He could change there, couldn't he? He just needed to get to the ball. "Yes," he sighed. "Thank you, Sora. You've been a lot of help."

Sora beamed. "That's great! You know, you're my first fairy godchild. Self. Whatever. Anyway, I think this was a success. It's been fun, Roxas."

Sora's grin was infectious. Roxas smiled a little, too. "Yeah. It was nice to meet you."

"Well, you better hurry," said the winged boy, pushing Roxas into the carriage. "There're only three and a half hours until midnight." He closed the door and nodded to the coachman. "Have fun! Make good choices! Don't do drugs! Peer pressure is bad! Just say no!"

"Got it," Roxas said.

The Neoshadow-coachman cried "Hyah!" and cracked his whip, and the Heartless-horses began to trot off toward the street, and Roxas watched from the window of his plush Paopu-coach as Sora and the garden faded behind him, his fairy godself becoming only a tiny pinprick of light.

---

Sora sighed happily. For his first god-parenting, he thought he had done rather well. Now, Roxas was off to the ball and would have the time of his life.

And Sora? Well, he didn't really have anywhere to be until the next morning when he was obliged to check in on Roxas, so he decided to take a stroll around the garden. After using his Keywand to repair the cabbage patch, he looked at the arrangement of the various plants decided that Marluxia really had a way with flora. The garden was actually very pretty at night, and Sora decided to go exploring, following a old, stone path around to the back of the castle.

He was just admiring a moonlit azalea bush when he heard, "Roxas? Is that you?"

The voice seemed to be coming from a grate in the castle's base. Sora quickly magicked his wings and his glowing away and knelt down beside it. "No, Roxas is at the ball," he said. "He just left."

Sora heard a sigh, and squinted into the darkness. He thought he could make out the form of a tall, toned teenage boy leaning against a door with his arms crossed. "I should have known," said the boy. "Somehow, I always get left behind."

"Now, that's not fair," Sora said, settling down on his stomach and peering into the grate. "I can't understand that. Why would anyone leave you behind?" He shook his head and added, "Oh, I'm Sora, by the way."

The boy stepped into the light, and placed his hands on the bars of the grate, which appeared to actually be a window into a small cell. He had silver hair that went past his shoulders and the most striking eyes that Sora had ever seen. Sora, for some reason, felt the immediate, humiliating, horrifying impulse to blush. "I'm Riku," said the boy. "And I don't think anyone means to forget me, they just somehow always do."

"Yeah…" Sora said, staring. "I can't imagine _how_…"

Riku was looking at Sora oddly, too. Then he coughed and said, "Look, this is nice and all, but do you have anything I can pick the lock with? I'd really like to get out of here before Vexen gets back."

Sora shook his head and grinned. "I can do _much _better than that. I have a giant key."

Riku looked from Sora to the Keywand lying in the grass beside Sora. "Oh," he said softly. "So you do. That's useful."

"Yeah, it is." There was another long pause as he and Riku studied each other again. "Hey, Riku," Sora said, finally, tilting his head to the side. "Have you ever been to a ball?"

---

**A/N:** ...:D. Nothing to say here. Too giddy. Reviews make the author almost as happy as Roxas in a dress.


	5. Chapter V

**_A/N: _**There's a reason I'm up at 2:00am, typing up this story. It's because of people like **Carmenliana, -w- easy enough, loki lee, Lavender341, kyunyu, Insanecat6, nextstopparadise, Lanamax Kurosaki, Only-Slightly-Obsessed-Un, b4k4 ch4n, Mitsuru Aki, **and** PyroTori**, and, of course, everyone who faved and alerted. You guys rock! You made this sucky, homework-laden, cold-flavored week so much better.

Oh, the other reason I'm doing it is for pure love of men in dresses. Quite seriously, the only multichap fics I ever finish have men in dresses in them. Why? I have no clue whatsoever.

Anyway, another long chapter, which I hope you all enjoy. Sorry for the delay: homework and sickness sapped my writing time. I will try to get the next one up sooner.

I'm having a blast with this fic, and I hope you are too!

---

**Chapter V**

Axel sighed, slouching in his plush, red throne. The ball had been a success so far. Of course, that particular definition of "success" meant that hundreds of girls had been paraded before Axel, he'd had to speak a few polite words to all of them, and then they'd been led off to the side so Saïx and his unfailing quill could take all of their names down on a piece of parchment. Later, Axel would dance with each and every one of them. His father, no doubt, considered this a great accomplishment, because surely somewhere on that list was the maiden who would break her way into Axel's heart.

Coincidentally, for Axel, this was a perfectly miserable affair. All of the girls looked the same, the girls from his kingdom, the girls from other kingdoms, each with their shiny skirts and painted faces, their practiced manners and simpering smiles. Bo-_ring_. He might have liked some of them if they hadn't all been trying so hard.

And there was no sign of Roxas at all. His evil stepmother must have locked him in a cupboard somewhere. It really was a shame. All this blue for nothing.

"Stop slouching," King Xemnas snapped from the adjacent throne. "Everyone is watching you. A prince should not hold himself like a peasant."

Axel rolled his eyes, but did as he was told, straightening in his seat. After all, everyone _was_ watching them. The two thrones were on a raised platform at the head of the ballroom at the center of the action. The Council of Five flanked Xemnas' throne, leaving Axel to face all of the stares of his potential wives (and their escorts) himself.

"How many more?" he asked without trying to conceal his impatience.

Xemnas consulted Saïx, who leaned down to whisper in the king's ear. "Only a few," he said, turning back to look at his son. "Then the dancing begins."

"Goodie."

His face at its most regal and impassive, Xemnas simply blinked. "And try to let these last few have a conversation with you before you dismiss them. You're not being a very generous host." Without another word, he deferred to the announcer, a blond man with a goatee and a British accent, whose voice was already a little hoarse from announcing the titles of all of the maidens.

"Princess Naminé of—" The announcer screwed up his eyes as he tried to remember the full name. "Of…of the Land of the Author-Who-Doesn't-Feel-Like-Inventing-Countries!"

"Strange name," Axel muttered.

Princess Naminé curtsied in a very ladylike and poised manner. She was indeed very pretty: her skin was snow white, her eyes were sky blue, and her hair was reminiscent of golden summer wheat. Tiny pearls had been woven through it, and they sparkled as she inclined her head. Her dress was an elegant rose-cream silk creation, and it flattered her lovely figure.

"It's an honor to be here, your Highness," she said. Her words sounded like music, her voice pretty and light.

Axel didn't even bother stifling his yawn.

"To show my appreciation," Naminé rushed before Axel could dismiss her, "I have brought you a gift. May I?"

Axel glanced at his father, who nodded stonily, probably glad that a girl had managed to last more than fifteen seconds in front of his son, even if he didn't show it. "Proceed," Xemnas said.

Naminé motioned gracefully to her men-at-arms, who were holding another person between them. "I have brought a sitar player boy from the farthest corner of India." She curtsied again. "I hope he will make an excellent addition to your court."

The men-at-arms threw the boy down on his knees on the red carpet. He certainly didn't _look_ Indian, even though he wore shiny, Indian-looking clothes: he was too tall and not tan enough. His sandy hair was cut in a ridiculous and certainly outmoded way, but there was definitely something cute in his face, and in the way that he did not appear at all afraid to be offered as a gift to a foreign monarch. Axel approved. Axel approved so much.

"Yes," he said. "I think he will."

"With all due respect, Princess, I do not think this an appropriate gift for my son," Xemnas deadpanned. Axel barely concealed his disappointment. "Therefore, I bequeath the sitar player boy—"

"Demyx," said the sitar player. "Nice to meet you."

"Demyx. I bequeath him onto—" He glanced first at his prime minster, but Saïx shook his head. Xemnas thought for a second and decided to simply choose the next person on the chain of command. "Lord Xigbar, as a reward for your many years of service."

"Really?" Xigbar asked. "Sweet! Thanks, your Majesty."

But Axel, who'd already lost interest in the fate of the shiny sitar player, turned back to Naminé. "So, you've traveled to India," he said.

"It's a beautiful country," Naminé twittered. "I did a lot of painting while I was there. Perhaps his Highness would enjoy visiting my personal gallery sometime?"

"I think I would," Axel said mildly. "Thank you, Princess." Naminé curtsied a third time and retreated. Axel leaned back in his throne. "I liked her," he said to his father. "If no one more interesting comes along, I'm marrying her by default."

Xemnas had no objections whatsoever.

"The Honorable Ladies Vexen and Larxene, escorted by the, er, Lady Marluxia," the announcer croaked, his voice about to give. A page standing nearby handed him a glass of water.

The two eligible maidens moved in front of the platform while their mother—at least, Axel assumed the pink-haired woman in the green dress was their mother, although her jaw was a bit too strong—watched from a distance. The first, a curvy blonde, swept a low, practiced curtsy. The other stood there scowling and muttered something. Axel studied them both with feigned interest.

"Excuse my _sister_," said the more curvaceous of the two, subtly grinding the toes of the other one with the heel of what looked like a combat boot. "She is not feeling well. Terrible cramps." She curtsied again. That dress didn't hide very much. "I am Larxene, and this—" She full out kicked her 'sister' in the shin. "—is Vexen."

"How do you do," Vexen muttered without much enthusiasm.

Axel looked Vexen up and down. "Too _old_," he declared. "Are you _sure_ you're an eligible maiden?"

"No," Vexen replied, clearly unruffled by the insult, glaring back at the pink-haired woman. "But that doesn't seem to matter to anyone else."

Larxene shoved her sister out of the way with an evil smile on her face. "Your Highness, if I am not mistaken, you've promised to dance with every girl at this ball. Is that not true?"

"Uh, it…it is," Axel admitted, although the truth of the matter was that his father had promised for him.

"Excellent." Her grin widened. "Dance with me first."

Axel glanced imploringly at Saïx, who remained as impassive as the king. Even after only a minute or so, it was clear that Larxene was a scary person. "Uh, I'm not sure if I can…there's an order for these things."

"Dance with _me_," Larxene repeated, "if you value your right arm unbroken."

Axel swallowed. He definitely valued his right arm. He used it for a lot of things. Desperate, he looked at his father. "Dad, there are rules against threatening the prince at his own ball, aren't there?"

"Nonsense," said King Xemnas. "You can afford to be taught a lesson." He stood from his throne and clapped for attention. "As of now, my son will dance with all of the eligible maidens on this list!" he announced, to much cheering and applause. "And we will start with the last name on the list and work backwards until all have danced!"

The Princesses of Heart groaned in unison. They had been the first to sign their names on the list.

Xemnas clapped his hands twice, and the band began to play a waltz. Feeling instinctively in his knees, in his mind, in every part of his body, that this was going to be a supremely awful idea, Axel took Larxene's hand in his own and led her onto the floor. At least he was a capable dancer. Or, he'd thought he was a capable dancer, until, for some reason their waltz started going horribly, terribly wrong, and Larxene almost tread on his feet.

After the third time that he nearly lost his toes to the steel-tipped boots, Axel looked at his partner and asked, "Shouldn't I be leading?"

She fluttered her eyelashes at him. "I don't see why that's _necessary_," she said. "After all, it'll be like this when we're ruling our country, won't it?"

"_Our_…country?"

"But of course." Larxene rewarded him with one of her terrifying smirks. "I lead, you follow."

Axel coughed. Apparently, none of the maidens here knew the exact nature of Xemnas' plans for Axel's new wife. This was bad. This was very bad. "I don't think…that I'm worthy of a wife like you," he tried.

She laughed. "I'm sure I can convince you otherwise." It was then that Axel noticed the knife she had hidden in her cleavage. It seemed awfully inconvenient to hide weapons there. He wondered why anyone would subject themselves to that. Except, perhaps, to intimidate their dates into marriage? "After all, I—"

Axel stopped dancing.

Actually, that wasn't the only thing he stopped doing. He, somehow, for one moment, forgot to breathe. Perhaps because his brain stopped working. Along with the rest of his body. Function ceased in its entirety.

And then, without warning, his heart erupted back to life, and he said "Excuse me" to Larxene and dashed off.

The most interesting person of the evening had just walked into the room.

---

Roxas was lost.

It wasn't his fault. Whenever Marluxia took him anywhere, he always ended up entering through the servants' quarters, which were always decidedly less grand then the main entrance. No one needed to impress servants. Now, the splendor and grandeur and _je-ne-sais-quoi_ of the main entrance of the _actual_ royal palace threatened to overwhelm his senses altogether. It was just so _big_. How was he ever going to find Axel in here, among all of these people, all of these decorations, all of these _things_?

Many of the people, he had realized, were looking at him quite curiously. Roxas wanted to curse. Was it because he was coming down the large staircase without an escort or an official announcement? Was it because he had arrived at nine o' clock, a good deal later that everyone else? Could they tell he was a boy in a corset, glass heels, and a dress? Was that why there were staring?

…Or worse, was it because they _couldn't_ tell, and thought he was just another prospective bride for the prince?

"But all of the girls who had RSVP'd are here!" he heard someone whisper loudly from across the room. Roxas felt the odd impulse to blush, to stammer some kind of excuse. He wasn't used to having all eyes on him.

Indeed, it was eerily silent in the grand ballroom. An orchestra had settled into the far corner of the room, but even that had stopped playing as everyone studied the strange new guest. Roxas desperately wished that the conductor would pick up his baton again and play something. _Anything_. He didn't want to be the center of attention. He didn't want to be the belle of the ball. He just wanted to find Axel and change the hell _out_ of this damn dress!

Finding Axel proved to be very easy. Axel was quickly striding towards him, looking very smart and very, _very_ handsome in his black jacket with gold trim, his red hair clean and almost tamed, his green eyes blazing, and Roxas couldn't have been more relieved. That was, until a blue-haired man with a parchment in his hand grabbed Axel's shoulder and said, "Your Highness, you _can't_."

Roxas froze. Your Highness?

Your _Highness_?

Axel was…a prince?

"I _can_," Axel said to the man. "It's my ball."

Axel was _the_ prince.

The blue-haired man suddenly grew a whole lot scarier. "Order must be maintained," he replied calmly. "I am not afraid to go berserker on you."

"That's enough, Saïx," boomed a voice from across the room. Roxas looked up to see a grey-haired man sitting on a throne, a large golden crown on his head. It must have been King Xemnas. Roxas knew gawking was unsightly, but he had to do it. That was Axel's _father_. The king? "My son may dance with whichever fair maiden he pleases." He nodded at Roxas.

Fainting from humiliation seemed like a viable option right then. It really did.

Except then Axel took his hand. His small, white-gloved hand. And Roxas didn't feel quite so awful anymore.

Somewhere on the other side of the room, as Axel led Roxas down the grand staircase, the orchestra started to play again. When the two of them reached the bottom of the stairs, Roxas swept a curtsy. He figured that as long as everyone thought he was a girl, a curtsy would be more appropriate then a bow. He only hoped that Axel recognized him and would be able to come up with some kind of plan.

"May I have this dance, fair lady?" Axel asked, bowing in a most genteel manner.

Well, shit. There went that idea.

Roxas swallowed and allowed Axel to place his free hand on Roxas' waist, while Roxas reached up put his other hand on the older man's shoulder. He would have thoroughly enjoyed it—because he _did_ like Axel quite a bit already, after all—but he was thinking far too much. He had to tell Axel at some point. How hard was it to lean up on his tiptoes and whisper "I'm actually Roxas?"

"I'm a—" He lost his nerve at the last minute. "I'm afraid I don't actually know how to waltz."

This made Axel smile a little. "Well, then, what can you do? Polka? Jitterbug? Cotton-Eyed Joe?"

"Erm, what?"

"Never mind," Axel said, shaking his head. "It's easy. I'll teach you. Just do the opposite of whatever I do. Let me lead."

He stepped forward. Roxas stepped back. He stepped out to the side. Roxas followed, glad that his heels were low enough to actually walk in. Then he brought his feet together, and Roxas did the same, completing the step so that they'd traveled a vaguely triangular path. "See?" Axel murmured. "Nothing to it." He demonstrated again, and Roxas followed. "Okay, got it memorized?"

"I—" _I'm actually Roxas_. "Yeah, I think I have it."

"Great," said Axel, and off they went, dancing in small triangles across the floor of the ballroom.

It was much easier to dance when he wasn't thinking about the steps and was thinking about how handsome Axel looked in that jacket. He'd had some black pants made to match it, too, and they were somewhat form fitting and very flattering, but Roxas didn't want to be caught staring awkwardly, so he decided to focus more on Axel's face, which was, truth be told, even more interesting. Axel had a strong chin and really, really nice cheekbones, and his emerald green eyes were sort of gleaming in a way that made Roxas' stomach want to do flips.

Axel didn't say anything much, either, he just kept looking at Roxas from head to toe, once, twice, until his eyes settled on Roxas' face, on his eyes, and Roxas found that he couldn't look away. He had to admit, though, that he was relieved that Axel wasn't staring at his chest. Non-chest. Whatever.

Roxas _was_ disappointed, though. He _liked_ Axel, at least, found him attractive, found him funny, found his bluntness refreshing. And he'd hoped—well, it had seemed—that Axel had been beginning to like him the same way. But now that Roxas was a girl, Axel couldn't stop staring. Was he not interested in men, then? Did he just go both ways? What would he say if he somehow found out Roxas was Roxas, and not a mysterious girl?

Because whoever this person was, male or female, it wasn't Roxas. Roxas was someone who spent his days in a mansion which he used to own, polishing floors and dusting shelves and cooking meals while wearing skirts which no decent girl would touch, his face covered in soot and grime. This persona was rich and tasteful and clean and no doubt a good deal more interesting than some scrawny boy in the market place. What if Axel was falling in love at first sight, but not with Roxas? What if he fell in love with this person who wasn't Roxas, who—

Roxas tripped, because those with glass slippers should not attempt dancing.

Luckily, Axel was there to catch him, leaning them both down low while Roxas grabbed onto his neck for dear life. Somehow, it looked like a part of the dance. The other people in the ballroom—whom Roxas couldn't care less about—applauded. The ones who weren't busy muttering angrily about the strange blonde monopolizing the prince, that was.

"Are you alright?" Axel asked.

"Yeah," Roxas said breathlessly. Their noses were almost touching. They were _so _close. "I think I am."

Axel pulled them both back up, helping Roxas find his footing. Instead of returning to the waltz, though, the orchestra began playing something a little less lively, and Axel settled both of his hands on Roxas' waist now, while Roxas didn't remove his from the older man's neck. Truthfully, this was way more touching than social conventions of the time allowed in public, but neither of them really cared.

"It feels like we've met before," Axel murmured. "Do you feel that way?"

"Yes," Roxas breathed, trying to keep his voice light. "I do." He paused, then offered, "Maybe…in a past life or something?"

"It could be." They swayed in silence for a minute, then Axel said, "The décor matches your dress, you know."

Roxas hadn't been paying that much attention, but now that he had calmed down a little and could look around, he saw that it did. Everything was blue. The color of his eyes blue. Had Axel done that for him? For Roxas?

"And your dress matches your eyes," Axel continued.

Roxas bit his lip. "Yeah. It does."

He didn't really want Axel to pull away—he was so _warm_—but the older man did, studying Roxas's face intensely once again. Roxas' hands slid down to Axel's chest. "You have the prettiest eyes," Axel decided.

"Oh?"

"Yes." Axel smiled. "I'm sorry, I'm an awful host. Would you like anything to drink? Eat?"

Since "you" didn't seem like the best answer, given the setting, and since Roxas' stomach was actually growling at him, he said, "Eating would be nice. I'm afraid I skipped dinner."

"Not a problem." Axel put his arm around Roxas' waist. "Here, I'll go with you to the—_what_?" A small man with shaggy, slate-colored hair had approached Axel and muttered something which Roxas couldn't hear. The redhead sighed. "_Fine._ My father wants to talk to me. I'll be with you in a moment. The buffet is over that way. I'll meet you there."

"Alright," Roxas replied, both relieved and upset that Axel was leaving him. Sighing, wondering what he was ever going to do with himself, he headed towards the buffet, followed by the murmurs of jealous ladies from all over the kingdom. Vaguely, he wondered where his stepfamily was, then decided he'd rather not run into him. He thought he'd glimpsed Marluxia's face while he and Axel had been dancing, but he wasn't quite sure.

He was just shoveling some butter onto a roll when he heard, "Careful. You're going to spoil your figure."

Roxas turned to see Riku grinning at him, Sora on his arm. _Riku_. The one who Roxas had accidentally left in Vexen's lab. He'd gotten out, apparently, and he was dressed like a princeling. Sora's doing, no doubt. Sora was decked out in the same sort of clothing, only his outfit was red. Riku's was black and silver. They were attracting quite a lot of attention from the largely female crowd.

"You recognize me?" Roxas nearly squeaked.

"How could I _not_?" Riku replied. "Although it looks like you've raided Marluxia's closet. I have to say, you make a cute girl. A little boyish, but cute. Not particularly stunning, though. All of the princesses of such-and-such are wondering how you've ended up dancing with the prince for the past half-hour when he won't let anyone else get near him."

"I'm a little unsure of that myself," Roxas admitted, wondering if it had really been half an hour. It certainly hadn't felt like it. "Oh, by the way, sorry for not letting you out. Sora sort of, um—" Sora shook his head vehemently. Roxas blinked. "Okay. Well, I got distracted."

"It's no problem," Sora chirped. "I let him out, Roxas. You don't have to worry."

"I…see…"

"You know Sora?" Riku asked. He said Sora's name like it was the most wonderful thing in the world. _Sora_.

Roxas felt confused. Hadn't Sora already gone over this? "Of course I do, he's my fairy—" Sora shook his head again, and it occurred to Roxas that Riku must not _know_ that Sora was a fairy godperson. "—very, very good friend, from when I was, like, six. Hey, Sora, can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Okay," Sora said, looking up at Riku with a smile. "Don't go anywhere, 'kay?"

"I'll be right here," Riku replied.

Stuffing the roll in his mouth, Roxas pulled Sora so they would be out of general earshot. Or the earshot of anyone that mattered. Roxas thought he glimpsed Hayner and Olette in the crowd. So she'd gotten him to take her after all? Good for her. Roxas would have said hello, but he had a fairy godself to chide.

"Sora," Roxas began, his tone already a warning. "I'm not sure where to start. First of all, what are you doing here? Second of all, why are you here with Riku? And third, why are you making puppy dog eyes at him if you're not prepared to let him know who you are?"

Sora turned a brilliant shade of red. "_I'm_ not the one making puppy dog eyes," he muttered. "You should see the way you're looking at Axel. Your eyes put puppy dogs to _shame_."

Roxas could feel himself blushing as well, and hated it. "That is _not_ the point!" he nearly yelled, and then, realizing he was drawing more attention to himself, lowered his voice. "Did you bring Riku here?"

"Well, I mean, he was stuck in that awful basement, and _you_ weren't going to let him out, and I figured, 'Hey, why not let the poor guy have some fun?' So I cleaned him up and 'found' him some clothes and brought him to the ball with me." Sora looked at the ground, scuffing his shoes against the floor. "He didn't seem to mind. I mean, we've been talking a lot, on the way here and stuff. He's really…he's quite the guy. I didn't want him to think I was a freak."

Suddenly, Roxas was overcome with a strange desire to smack himself on the forehead. He wasn't the one who should be giving his fairy godself guidance! "Okay, I get it. You like him. That's fine. But that's only one more reason to be honest with him! If he likes you, too, he won't think you're a freak. But you can't build up a relationship on false premises. It won't work."

Sora opened his mouth to respond, but was spared when a girl broke off from the sea of people and approached, looking curiously at Sora's face. "Sora?"

Either Sora was relieved to have a distraction, or he immediately forgot about the conversation they'd been having. Or both. "Kairi?! What are you doing here?"

The girl called Kairi smoothed out her skirts. "I'm supposed to be courting the prince in the name of the land of Heart," she said. "But that's not going very well, so I'm mostly just listening to my sisters complain. What about you? I haven't seen you since you used to play in my garden!"

It was Roxas' turn to be bewildered. "You two…know each other?"

Sora nodded emphatically. "When I was a kid fairy, I used to play in the gardens by the castle of Heart. Kairi was like my little sister. Good times."

"I was the only one who could see him," Kairi gushed. "Everyone thought I had an imaginary friend. Look at you! You've grown up so much!"

"So have _you_!" Sora exclaimed. "Oh, wow. Okay. You'll have to tell me everything. And then I want to introduce you to my date. I think you two would get along well."

Kairi raised her delicate eyebrows. "A date? You?"

Sora blushed again. "Yeah, well, he's an interesting guy."

"He?" Kairi seized Sora's hand. "So_ra_. I think we have a lot of catching up to do. One dance? For old time's sake?"

Sora glanced over by the buffet table. "Okay…as long as it's really quick."

"Don't worry." Kairi pulled Sora towards the dance floor, and the last thing Roxas heard was "Alright, you have to tell me _everything_. Starting now."

He sighed. Just watching those two was beginning to tire him out. He wondered where he should go to look for—

"Ah. There you are," said Axel, who had come up behind him while he wasn't looking. "I thought you'd run away on me."

"Y—your Highness."

"Call me Axel." Axel's mouth was very close to Roxas' ear, and he wrapped his hands around Roxas' waist, apparently not caring who saw them. Surely, they were violating many, many rules of public decorum, but, strangely enough, Roxas didn't care either. He glanced up and saw King Xemnas watching them both intently.

"What did they want?" Roxas asked, wanting to flinch.

"They wanted to know who you were." Axel laughed. The very sound made Roxas shiver. "I told them that I didn't have the slightest idea. They didn't like that very much." He lowered his voice. "Can't you at least tell me your name?"

_Roxas. It's Roxas. We met a few days ago in the market. You held up a ribbon and said that it matched my eyes. I thought you were hitting on me. I was right._

"Not now. Let's take a walk," Roxas said weakly. "I'm feeling a little claustrophobic."

"Alright."

And, as Axel lead him away, Roxas' own words echoed back in his ears, making him feel terribly, horribly guilty, and almost, _almost_, spoiling the mood entirely:

You can't build up a relationship on false premises. It won't work.

---

The scene was set. Sora was over in the middle of the floor, dancing and chatting with some princess that he'd just met. And he seemed to be enjoying himself. After all, that girl was very attractive, if one was into girls. Sora hadn't _seemed_ to be into girls, but he could have always changed his mind. Kairi, the youngest princess of Heart, was a charmer.

And what of Riku? _He_ was neither dancing nor chatting nor enjoying himself. In fact, he was leaning against a column, his arms crossed, both feeling and looking rather sulky. A couple of girls had tried to talk to him—the ones that liked sulky, angsty men—but he had pointedly ignored them and they'd eventually gotten the picture and left. As persistent as girls could be, after the first couple of attempts at conversation or not-so-subtle gropes gleaned no reaction, they realized that Riku was not interested. Curse the prince for throwing a party where there would be many more girls than guys in attendance.

Ironically, the prince was off having fun with Roxas in a dress. But was Riku having fun? No. No, he was not.

Riku sighed and shook his hair into his face, as he often did when he was feeling angsty. He thought it added a nice touch. A bit emo, certainly, but it kept people from looking into his eyes. Especially the girls, who tended to twitter about their "perfect shade of aquamarine" or some such thing. The less people could see of them, the better.

Perhaps a full-out blindfold would make him even angstier-looking. He would have to try it sometime.

Riku was trying his very hardest to think about something other than Sora and Kairi, and not succeeding very much. Perhaps he should find a hobby, that is to say, a better hobby than lusting after boys he'd met an hour previous. Maybe he should take up poetry. After all, paper listens when you pour out your immortal soul.

Nah. Poetry was wussy. Maybe he should go about beating shit up with a whole bunch of minions at his command. That was manly. He could work with that.

"Kid, I like your style."

Riku looked up to see an older woman in long, elegant black robes studying him. Her skin had a greenish tint, and she wore a hat that made her look somewhat like the devil. In the hand which wasn't grasping her staff, she held a tall wineglass filled with something that looked much more like the blood of her enemies than actual wine. She practically emanated power.

_Oh great_, Riku thought. _Another one_. Out loud, he said, "And what style would that be?"

The woman smiled malevolently. "I'm sure you know what I'm talking about, as someone who has given his soul to the darkness."

Riku snorted. He wasn't feeling especially charitable that evening. "I haven't given my soul to anything. I don't let myself be controlled by the darkness. I can handle it on my own." He shrugged. "Besides, I'm a teenage boy. We get angsty. It's part of life."

The witch—Riku was fairly certain she was a witch, otherwise why would she be dressed that way?—used the end of her staff to tilt Riku's face back towards the dance floor, where Kairi and Sora were having a smashing good time. "Do you think that you deserve this, Riku?" she asked. Riku didn't really feel like wondering how she knew his name. "Can't you _feel _the darkness spreading into your very soul, seeping through your veins?"

As if on a cue, Sora laughed at something Kairi had said, and Riku felt something very much akin to what the woman was describing.

"Embrace it," the witch said. "And I will show you _true_ power. For example—" She indicated Kairi with her staff. "I could make her prick her finger on a spinning wheel and die." She smiled. "And _you_, Riku, could do so much more."

Riku turned. "Who are you?"

The witch laughed again. "Oh, just an old friend of Xemnas'. We both graduated from Villain Secondary School, class of '77. That was before he orchestrated his little coup d'etat and took over this kingdom, of course." She took a sip from her wine glass. "So, what do you say, Riku? Yes, or no?"

Riku was just about to open his mouth to tell her off when he heard someone behind him exclaim, "Ohmigod, Maleficent? What are you doing here?"

_Sora. Finally_.

Maleficent, however, did not look pleased to see the brown-haired boy. "Begone, brat. I was just having a fascinating conversation with your friend."

Sora groaned. "You were trying to tempt him into joining the dark side, weren't you? _Weren't_ you? You know we're not supposed to recruit when we're off-duty! It's not procedure!"

The witch cackled. "Since when does the dark side follow procedure?"

In a flash, Sora whipped his giant key out of nowhere in particular and pointed it at Maleficent, who merely blinked. "I really don't want to have to make a scene," he said. "Can't you just leave Riku alone?"

After studying Sora for a moment, Maleficent sighed, not out of defeat, but out of impatience. "Fine. I suppose I can make an exception this time." She looked at Sora sternly. "But don't think he's not out of my grasp."

After a minute of counting the double negatives, Sora shook his head, grabbed Riku by the wrist, and said, "I won't. Let's go, Riku."

Riku allowed himself to be led away from Maleficent, happy to have Sora's attention to himself again. But as soon as Sora had pulled him over to one of the shallow balconies, the expression on the younger boy's face changed from resolve to hurt. "Were you really thinking of joining the dark side?" he asked. "Riku, how_ could_ you?"

"I wasn't. I was going to tell her to take her dark side and shove it somewhere really uncomfortable," Riku replied. He had a number of questions for Sora, like who that woman was and where that key had come from, but Sora's huge grin in response to his quip made him forget them all. "Uh…it wasn't as if she didn't have fuel, though. I mean, I was pretty upset." He thought for a minute. "I probably should still be upset. You left me and went off to dance with a _girl_!"

Sora pressed his hands to his mouth in horror. "You thought I _ditched_ you!"

"Uh, well, yeah."

"I didn't!" he squeaked. "I—oh man, I am so sorry, it's just that Kairi is an old friend and she was feeling bummed because Axel wasn't paying attention to her or to any of her sisters, and I was just trying to cheer her up! I mean, I don't _like_ her like I like…" He stopped, blushed. The last bit of Riku's indignation melted.

"Hey," he said. "It's alright." He smiled and wrapped his arms around Sora, who squeezed him back. "I've never met anyone like you before, you know. I mean, you're so brave and…and you're a little strange, but…I like that."

"I like you, too," Sora said into Riku's chest. "And I _really_ like your tendency to get emo when I leave. It's very flattering."

"Really?"

"Really. As long as you don't actually turn to the dark side."

"I won't, as long as you don't leave me for a cute redhead." A pause. "Who was that Maleficent woman, anyway?"

Sora tensed in Riku's arms. "Um, we, um, work together. But on different sides. It's kind of difficult to explain."

"Hmm." Riku settled his head on Sora's spiky brown hair, which was actually much softer than it looked. "You'll have to tell me all of this someday."

"Someday. Not now, though."

"No," Riku agreed. "Not now."

There was another silence, but both boys found it to be quite comfortable. Sora shifted a little bit, nudging closer to Riku. "Um," he said. "I don't really do this a lot, so I don't know how I should ask, but, um, do you think we could go off somewhere a little less…"

"Public?" Riku finished. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. I think I saw some gardens over there. Those should be private enough. Is that alright with you?"

Sora looked up at him, eyes shining. "Oh, that is _so_ alright with me," he said. "You have no idea."

---

**_A/N:_** -hugs guilty!Roxas- Oh, and the longish Sora and Riku subplotty bit brought to you courtesy of all the lovely Riku/Sora (or the other way around, whatever) stories I've been reading. Those two are cuties, and I could write an entire companion fic on Sora's adventures as a fairy godperson. I may do that.

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY from _Slippers!_

Anyway, see you next time! Reviews are love!

P.S. Later today, I'm going to a friend's house for a Kingdom Hearts gaming marathon. It shall be awesome epic win.


	6. Chapter VI

**_A/N: _**I'm too tired to do a proper author's note, but I promise I will thank all of you at some point. A general THANKS!~ goes out to everyone who favorited, alerted, or reviewed. I apologize for the delay. Stupid homework.

So, hmm. The only thing I have to say about this chapter is that if Demyx seems ditzier than usual, it is for a reason. I know he's not a complete and total loon.

Love all of you, and I hope to see you on the reasonable side of tomorrow.

---

**Chapter VI**

As soon as the prince had left the ballroom with his new friend, King Xemnas had leaned over towards his five advisors and muttered, "Something isn't right. Follow them."

And it was all Xigbar could do to oblige. His Majesty was His Majesty, after all.

But even if he hadn't been asked, he'd probably volunteer for the job. He preferred stalking wayward princes to being shut up in stuffy boardroom meetings with His Majesty any day. Axel was an amusing charge, even if he didn't always know his place.

And Xigbar so loved following people around. He was good at it, too. He was an excellent climber (for his or any age) and generally silent while sneaking. He'd even challenged a young ninja to a stealth-off once, back in his youth, before his long hair was streaked with gray. And, no surprise, he'd won. The ninja had been completely humiliated. Even more so because she thought Xigbar was a pirate. Eye patches do create that impression, somehow.

So when Xigbar received his orders, he'd made a rather unnoticeable exit from the grand ballroom, gliding through the shadows in the direction of the garden. Once outside, he shed his long, black Council cloak, abandoning it on the ground in favor of the more practical shirt and trousers he wore underneath. Function over form, he often said to himself. As _if_ he'd want to weigh himself down with all of that extra fabric. That would just be plain moronic. He threw his cloak behind a bush so no one would get suspicious, then grabbed one of the strong vines on the side of the palace and began to climb, so as to get a better vantage point.

He managed to haul himself up onto the rooftop without tiring, and perched on the edge, scanning the garden, searching for a red-haired prince with a blondie on his arm. Sure, it might have been difficult if he were any old dude with no depth perception. But he was not just any old dude. He was Xigbar, master of stealth, wielder of the Gun Arrows, left-hand man of His—

"Hey!" someone chirped happily. "What are you doing up here?"

Xigbar fell off the roof in surprise and landed in a rosebush.

About a second later, the other person on the roof overbalanced, and followed Xigbar down to the ground with a "Woah, hey!" and landing on top of Xigbar with a thoroughly undignified "Ow…"

With his one golden eye, Xigbar glared up at his new sitar-playing Indian slave boy, who looked too dazed to be properly frightened. "What are _you_ doing here?"

The sitar player, Demyx, scratched his head. "Well, I saw you go outside, so I thought I should follow you, and then I saw you go up on the roof, so I thought I should follow you there, too. And then I did. And then you fell, so I fell, too!"

"Yes, yes, I got that. But…_why_?"

Demyx sat up, rubbing at the side of his arm. Unfortunately, that meant he was sitting right in the middle Xigbar's torso, and Xigbar wasn't really in the mood for that sort of thing just then. Usually he was pretty easygoing, even after a fall, but this sitar player was making it very difficult. "Well, I'm sort of new at this slave thing, so I thought that I should stay nearby. You know, in case you need me. Isn't that how it's supposed to work, Master?"

"Well, usually, that is how it works. However, it doesn't work that way when I'm spying. You know, slaves should be seen and not heard, and all that. And don't take this personally, slave boy, but you need to get off of me before someone gets the wrong idea."

Demyx's eyes grew wide. "_Spy_? You're a _spy_?"

Clearly that was the wrong thing to say. Xigbar, with surprising agility, seized Demyx by the hair and pulled him off, pushing him down behind the bush. The slave winced. "Lower your voice," Xigbar commanded, and Demyx, a little intimidated now, did. "Now, I'm going to go off and follow the prince. You be a good boy and go back inside. Don't tell anyone what I'm up to. See if one of the other Council members need you. Actually, yeah, go find Zexion. Shrimp with the blue hair."

"Awh, but I want to be a spy, too, Xiggy!"

Xigbar raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Demyx smiled hesitantly. "Well, I figured that as long as I'm going to be stuck with you for a period of indefinite servitude, I might as well lighten the mood a little. You can call me something too, if you want."

Smacking himself in the forehead, Xigbar said, "No, and _don't_ call me Xiggy. The only person who can get away with that is that rotten prince." He scowled. "Besides, that's not what I was upset about! What makes you think you can be a spy? You're a sitar player. They aren't the same thing."

"Well, uh." Demyx thought for a minute. "They both start with s!" Xigbar rolled his eyes. Well, eye. "Plus, I think I'd be really good at it."

"Oh, yeah? Can you maintain a secret identity?"

"I can try. And if someone's on the verge of discovering me, I can distract them with song and dance!"

"Uh-huh. Can you sneak around in the dark?"

"I can! You didn't even see me until I said hello!"

Xigbar had to admit that that was a fair point. "Can you kill a man with your bare hands?"

Demyx paled. "Um…I wouldn't really want to. But I guess, if he were really annoying, I could hit him with my sitar!"

This made Xigbar chuckle. At least, he chuckled until he realized what he was doing, and then he stopped and cleared his throat, attempting to regain some semblance of his professionalism. "Very well. You may come along this one time."

"Awesome!"

"But only because this is a special occasion."

"Got it." Demyx winked. "I'll be a good spy, Xig—Master. Just you wait." He looked excited. Well, at his age, hadn't Xigbar wanted to be a spy as well, before he'd realized it was serious business? Of course, unfortunately to Demyx, he was bound to Xigbar for the rest of his life and would never get the chance to be a real spy. For some reason, this did not make Xigbar all that sorry. "So, where are we off to?"

"Well, I saw the target—we'll call him 'Eight'—"

"Why are we calling him 'Eight?' Isn't his name 'Axel?' And why 'Eight?' That's a pretty random number."

"It is random. It's a code." Xigbar shook his head. "Kids these days. Anyway, I saw Eight off walking by the fountain at the heart of the garden with Thirteen—" Demyx opened his mouth to ask, and Xigbar rushed," Because that girl is unlucky. His Majesty thinks so. Don't argue. Our objective is to keep an eye on Eight and Thirteen. Find out anything fishy about this Thirteen. If it winds up that there _is_ something fishy, the king and the rest of us will be in a royal pickle." Distressingly, Xigbar wanted to add "Got it memorized?" to the end of his statement. He thought that perhaps he'd been following the prince around a bit too much.

"Okay, got it," said Demyx. "Let's go stalk!"

Xigbar shook his head again—he felt like he'd been doing that a lot lately, and would probably do it many more times before the night was over—and stalked off through the bushes, Demyx bounding behind him like an overeager puppy.

The king's gardens were large and well maintained, a maze of various bushes and trees, and it took the mismatched duo a few minutes to wind through them all, as stealthily as possible, of course, and arrive at the very center of the gardens. In that time, Demyx tripped Xigbar twice—accidentally, no doubt, but that behavior was still unacceptable in a spy—and managed to fall into a fountain once himself. As Xigbar led his dripping slave boy though the spectacular display of fauna, he busied his mind with coming up with suitable punishments for a slave. The last slave boy he had hadn't taken well to some of Xigbar's request, but Demyx appeared to be a bit more accommodating.

"Why is he having you follow his son, anyway?" Demyx asked suddenly. "Don't the king's chief advisors have better things to do? Like, foreign policy and stuff?"

"Nah," Xigbar said, pushing a branch out of his way. "Things have been pretty peaceful around here after His Majesty staged that coup twenty-five years back, no real threats, no nothing, which leaves his chief advisors, like me, ample time to spy on his son."

"I see."

"Now, be quiet. We're close."

"Yes, Xig—Master."

Xigbar approached the central area of the garden, a small, open area with a gigantic fountain in the middle. The fountain, actually, was a sculpture of Xemnas with water coming out of its mouth and the palm of its outstretched hands, and Xigbar had always found it quite bizarre and not that great to look at. But that was just the way His Majesty did things. Avoiding the statue's eerily lifelike eyes, he concealed himself and Demyx behind a strategically placed pine tree, cut in the shape of a heartless.

"Any sign of the targets?" he asked in his most spy-like hushed whisper.

"Nope, no Eight or Thirteen," said Demyx, who knew enough to at least lower his voice. "There's no one here."

"I was afraid of this," Xigbar growled. "No doubt they've moved off to somewhere more private. But maybe they left some sort of sign…" He made a movement to leave the protection of the tree, then stopped. "Did you hear that?"

Demyx blinked. "No, I didn't hear anything."

There it was again. A giggle, a little sigh. Then another voice responding in a murmur, deeper. Two people. The thing which caught Xigbar's attention, however, was that both voices sounded decidedly male.

"Oh," said Demyx. "That."

"I'm betting that's them," Xigbar muttered. "Figures that Axel would smuggle in a cross dresser. We should try to get closer, but not—No!"

But Demyx had already darted out from under cover and was running, completely out in the open, to the patch of bushes from which the sound had originated. Xigbar huffed and ran after him. Even though the other man was younger, Xigbar knew he could easily overtake him, and he caught up with Demyx and grabbed the slave boy by the arm. "What do you think you're doing?" he hissed.

"I'm investigating!" Demyx exclaimed, struggling.

"No, that's not how you—"

Demyx gave an extra hard tug and the two of them fell straight into the thicket where the mysterious sounds had been coming from.

Xigbar's fall, at least, was cushioned by Demyx this time. Demyx was not so lucky, hitting the ground headfirst with a painful thud. Man, this just wasn't that kid's day, was it? Xigbar shook his head for what felt like the sixtieth time and looked up into the eyes of two very startled young canoodlers, neither of whom were Axel, but both of whom were male.

"Guys," said a teenager with silver hair, who was lying on the ground, his black shirt untucked. "Seriously? Get your own bush."

The kid on top of him, who had turned bright red and was desperately trying to hold his own shirt in front of him, only squeaked in alarm. He knew enough to be properly embarrassed. His friend, on the other hand, was smirking in a way that made Xigbar really, really want to him punch him out.

"Woah," said Demyx, who had recovered his powers of speech before his master had. "Sorry. Didn't mean to intrude." Then, he got a grand idea. Xigbar could tell because of the look on his face. "Say, did either of you see a red-haired guy walk by here with his date?"

"Demyx!" Xigbar exclaimed, wondering what part of "secrecy" this kid didn't understand.

"What? They might know something."

"Well, from the look of things here, I don't think they've been paying attention. Have you, boys?"

"Actually," said Silver, sitting up. "We did see them."

"We did?" asked his friend. "I don't remember—ow, ow, don't pinch me!"

Xigbar waited. "Well?"

"Oh yeah, those two," said Silver, shaking his bangs out of his eyes while balancing the brunet on his lap and apparently tickling him into submission. "The guy with the girl in the blue dress? They seemed to be having a good time. They headed off somewhere that way." He pointed off to his right. "About fifteen minutes ago."

"Thanks," said Demyx, looking triumphantly up at Xigbar. "See, I told you it was a good idea!"

And Xigbar, master of stealth, wielder of the Gun Arrows, left-hand man of His Majesty, had to sigh in defeat.

---

After the two strange men had left, Sora unclenched his hands, letting his shirt drop back to the ground, and looked up at Riku inquisitively. "What was all that about?"

"I'm not sure myself," Riku admitted. "But I saw the one with the eye patch inside. I think he's one of the Council of Five." This meant absolutely nothing to Sora, who spent most of his time in Fairyland, which didn't have tyrannical monarchical governments, but he nodded gravely anyway. "And they were looking for Roxas and Axel. Whatever they were up to, it can't be good."

"How do you know?" Sora asked, more preoccupied with the feel of Riku's warm hands on his waist.

"The Council of Five has black uniforms."

"Ooh." Sora understood now. This situation evoked one of the basic rules in one of the basic fairy textbooks. "And wearing black is one of the most straightforward indicators of evil. I get it."

Riku grinned. "Well, I don't know if it's that simple of a rule, but it's certainly been true in my experience. Which was why I pointed them off in a random direction. Hopefully, they'll be chasing our false lead for a little while."

"Mhm." Then, Sora realized something. "Hey, Riku, _you're_ wearing black, too."

Looking down at his mussed clothing, Riku grinned. "Why, so I am." He cuddled closer to Sora. "But you can do something about that, can't you?"

"Yes I can," Sora said.

And he did.

---

Axel and Roxas were, in fact, in the gardens, but in a far more secluded area than the one Sora and Riku were currently occupying, because Axel knew the gardens well enough to take them somewhere where they would not be seen, namely, to a stone bench by a small pond, romantic and out-of-the-way. He also knew enough to have brought out two glasses and a bottle of champagne, one for him, one for Roxas. The blond sipped his drink tentatively, partially because he hadn't really ever had alcohol before, partially because he remembered Sora's warning about drugs (which implicitly included alcohol), and partially because the bubbles surprised him. The entire time, he kept glancing at Axel, afraid that he would make some kind of grievous misstep. How exactly did one go about romancing a prince?

"You can drink the champagne, you know," Axel said, grinning. "I didn't slip anything in it, in case you were wondering."

Roxas grinned as well. "See, I feel like the fact that you said that should make me trust you less."

Axel studied him with intense green eyes. "And, does it?"

"No," Roxas said, pleasantly surprised to find that it was true. "It doesn't. Is that stupid?"

"Eh, I've heard worse."

"Hmm. Well, I guess it couldn't hurt to try it." He drank more deeply this time, then polished off the rest of the glass, leaning back so that the upper rim almost touched his nose. "It's very good."

"Great. Want anymore?"

Roxas shook his head, setting his glass down on the bench. "No, thanks. I think I'm done. I'm not all that thirsty." He shivered.

"Oh," Axel said, removing his jacket. "Here."

He placed it on Roxas' shoulders, and Roxas was grateful—he wasn't used to having so much of his torso exposed. Under Marluxia's care, his arms and legs got a lot of exposure, but even the maid outfit wasn't this low cut in the front of the back, and the chill on those areas was raising small goose pimples just about everywhere. However, in placing the jacket on Roxas' shoulders, Axel had slipped an arm around the boy's waist, and Roxas suddenly didn't notice the chill. Axel was _warm_, warm like the fireplace Roxas sat in front of in the winter, to warm his hands, only much, much less temperamental than _that_ particularly drafty fireplace, and much nicer to cuddle up to.

Perhaps it was the champagne (even though he hadn't had enough to have any real effect) which quieted Roxas' nerves a bit. He had decided sometime on the long walk over that Axel couldn't possibly be straight—not if the marketplace was any indication—so there was always a chance that he was bisexual, and wouldn't mind Roxas' little masquerade. At least, not on the gender front. So Roxas had reconciled his fears in that respect.

What still nagged at the back of his mind was the lying and deception part of this whole charade. After all, in this getup, with his face clean and his clothes, well, moderately decent, he definitely looked like the daughter (or deviant son) of some noble or king. Yes, it was nice that Axel was paying attention to him, but _no_, it was not alright that Roxas hadn't gotten up the nerve to tell Axel his real name yet. Perhaps because he couldn't bear to. Would Axel hate him for lying? Would he understand that the circumstances had been somewhat out of Roxas' control from the beginning? What was the punishment for people who lied to princes, anyway?

"Tell me something about yourself," Axel said. "Like…your name."

Roxas laughed, a breathy little laugh which was not his own. He had no idea where it had come from. "I'm afraid I can't," he said, which was sort of true, seeing as his throat closed up on him whenever he attempted to utter it. "But what's in a name, anyway?"

Axel chuckled, not seeming to mind the evasive response. "That's fine, then. What's your favorite food?"

"Sea-salt ice cream," Roxas responded automatically, and then he flinched wondering if that was too weird to admit to near-strangers. He should have chosen something normal. Like Bundt cake. Or watermelon.

Seeing Roxas' uncertainty, Axel laughed. "Don't worry about it. My favorite flavor of ice cream, too."

"Seriously?"

"Yep. Now, let's see…" The other man thought for a minute. "How old are you?"

"Seventeen. Practically eighteen. It feels like I've been seventeen for years."

"Really? Quickest year of my life," Axel mused, remembering. With his head tilted back a that angle, the moonlight caught his face in such a way that he appeared even more handsome. If that were possible. "A lot of good things happened for me that year. In fact, that was the year before my father began nagging me about this heir-producing business."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. He really wants me to make him a grandchild, because I don't want anything to do with his throne, and he could make my son a successor in my place." Axel sighed. "Ruling has never really appealed to me. Too much responsibility. I've been a king-in-training for most of my life, and I've hated it. Sure, it's comfortable, but I'm always being watched, if not by my father, then by everyone else, and I have to dabble in politics, and…" He wrinkled his nose. "I'd much rather vanish into Europe. There are so many things I like better than being a prince that I think I'd become a pauper at the drop of a hat."

"It isn't really that great on the other side either," Roxas said to himself. Noticing Axel's curious gaze, he amended, "I have friends who tell me about their lives. Friends who have to do all sorts of odd jobs just to make sure they have a roof over their heads." _Like clean the house in a maid outfit._

Axel nodded. "Sure. I have friends, but they're all nobility. Forced friendships for political purposes. I'd really like to make my own choices for once."

"I know what you mean. Where I come from, I don't get to make any of my own choices, either. Everything I do is dictated by my family."

"Really?" Axel nestled closer into Roxas. Roxas didn't mind. "And where are you from?"

"I…can't say. Somewhere far, far away."

"Far, far away," Axel repeated. "I see. You're very interesting, you know, with your mysterious answers." He paused, and then said, "But I _like_ interesting. I like interesting a lot."

He looked down at Roxas, and Roxas looked up at him. Roxas thought that Axel's eyes were the most fascinating things he'd seen in his entire life. They sort of had this darker rim of green on the outside and got brighter towards the middle, and whatever emotion he was regarding Roxas with right then made Roxas want to melt into a puddle on the ground. He handed Axel back his jacket, suddenly feeling very, very warm, almost as if he were going to overheat. Axel was close. When had Axel gotten so close?

"I—" Axel was going to kiss him. Roxas' frantic heartbeat drowned out everything else in his body. "I…I shouldn't—"

Axel reached out to brush Roxas' cheek with the pad of this thumb. Roxas felt, suddenly, very, very young, and very, very nervous. "Shouldn't?" Axel said. The way his lips moved were captivating. "Why ever not?"

"Um." Roxas closed his eyes and, in that moment, made a decision.

That decision was to stand up, off of the bench, and walk away before he got too terribly involved to stop, because he knew that if he kissed Axel he'd just be trapping himself in a tangled web of his own lies. Well, it had all been well-intentioned. _There's a certain road that's paved with good intentions_, he told himself. _Come on. This is the best way. This is what's fair to you and to him. If you can't bring yourself to tell him, then you have to walk away._

Axel stood, caught his wrist, and pulled him into an embrace. Roxas stopped breathing.

"I know your _secret_," Axel murmured.

Roxas froze. Had Axel figured out that he was a nobody, the only child of a deceased nobleman who hadn't cared enough to change his will, leaving all of the property to his wicked wife? Had Axel realized that that Roxas didn't have a penny to his name? That he relied on magic and deception to get this far? The very thought made Roxas jittery. Despite his nerves, he'd been having such a good time until now, looking at Axel, talking to Axel. He felt like Axel understood him. Had Axel been pretending the entire time?

"_You_, my darling," Axel said, "Are not a girl."

Roxas relaxed. Somehow, that didn't seem nearly as bad.

"I knew it since the second you walked through the door," Axel continued. "Everyone else was pretty much fooled, but I knew what you were from the moment I laid eyes on you."

"H—how did you know?" Roxas asked.

"Well, for starters…" Axel reached down the front of Roxas' dress and pulled out the two wads of paper Sora had given him to stuff it with. Roxas squeaked. "These were definitely not real."

"Yeah, but neither are half of the ones on the girls at your ball," Roxas pointed out.

"True. Which brings me to point number two." Axel's hand on Roxas' waist moved ever so slowly downward, and his other one joined it. "Even that incredible skirt of yours cannot hide the fact that your hips are far too skinny."

"Well," Roxas said uncomfortably. "Since you've used all of the points so far to molest me, I hesitate to ask where you're going with this. Is there a…point?"

He thought, vaguely, that maybe that last question was too forward in its delivery. After all, it was flirtatious, yet a subtle innuendo. He had the feeling that Shakespeare would approve of it; he might as well, as long as he was approving of people cross-dressing and seducing their lovers. Roxas had to wonder if Axel got the idea.

He seemed to. His green eyes sort of lit up. It was absolutely mesmerizing. "Yes, in fact," he said, leaning down. "Point three. You—" He kissed Roxas' forehead. "—are far more interesting—" The bridge of his nose. Roxas shivered, but not from the cold. "—than any girl."

Axel kissed Roxas on the mouth, and Roxas' heart nearly leapt out of his chest. Right then, he doubted he would have even cared if it had. He was being kissed by a prince. A prince who he liked. A lot. He stood on his tiptoes, his hands pressing against Axel's chest, and leaned up to get a better angle, enjoying the warmth which spread through his entire body. As first kisses went, this one wasn't so bad, and Roxas wasn't feeling all that unsure of himself anymore. After all, Axel knew he was male. That was half of the story right there. Probably the important half. Roxas relaxed and let himself enjoy the moment.

After a little while of this, Axel's mouth founds its way to Roxas' ear and he whispered, "Should we take this somewhere even more private?"

"Your Highness," Roxas said, amused. "Just like that?"

Axel shrugged, smiling. "The entire point of this ball was to get me to sleep with someone, anyway. And you're the only person here I'd want to sleep with at all. If you're alright with that."

"Oh, I am perfectly alright with that," Roxas said, figuring that if this was going to be the only night of his life as a belle of the ball, so to speak, he might as well enjoy it to the fullest. "But…what time is it?"

They both looked at the clock tower, which, at that moment, decided to strike eleven.

"Yeah," Roxas said. "We have time."

"Excellent." Axel wrapped an arm around Roxas' waist and began to lead him out of the garden. "Ladies first?"

"Oh _no,_" Roxas replied, leaning into him. "It's your house. I'd get lost. Or distracted. The only time I've ever seen things this nice, I was dusting them."

The instant he said it, Roxas wanted to take it back. But Axel only laughed. "You _are_ interesting," he said, sweeping Roxas up into his arms.

"Yeah." Roxas twined his arms around Axel's neck. He was dizzy, but in the best possible way. "You have no idea."

---

_**A/N:** _Sleep time now. Um, reviews are even lovelier than Roxas in a dress. Also, if I get a good response, I might even get the next chapter up by Sunday or Monday, which would make everyone happy. Love you guys. Enjoy!


	7. Chapter VII

_**A/N:**_ Wow I meant to get this up so much earlier (as in, Sunday afternoon) but the site refused to cooperate. Anyway, here it is! Lots of thanks are in order.

Chapter five: **kelseywazhere, Insanecat6, Gone and forgoten., Lavender341, DemonBrownie, -w- easy enough, PyroTori, Carmenliana, Lanamax Kurosaki, nextstopparadise**, and **b4k4 ch4n.**

Chapter six: **Mitsuru Aki, PyroTori, kelseywazhere, Insanecat6, Lanamax Kurosaki, OnceInABlueMoon127, Lavender341, Teh Cynical, DorkFace, nextstopparadise, rena-chan921, b4k4 ch4n, **and **Gone and forgoten.**, as well as everyone who faved and reviewed.

I'd already written half of this chapter, just wasn't sure if I'd be able to finish it in time. And I was! So you get two updates in one weekend, and they are both, hopefully, smexy and excellent.

Enjoy!

---

**Chapter VII**

Axel was laying on his side, stroking his partner's soft, blond hair, hair he'd wanted to touch the entire evening, to see if it was as soft as it looked. It was softer. The boy's eyes were closed, but Axel knew he wasn't asleep just yet, because of the way he was curling himself up into the fetal position, trying to hide his body.

"Don't," Axel implored, applying the slightest bit of pressure to the boy's knee to make him lower it. "I like looking at you."

The boy's eyelids fluttered open. "Is that supposed to make me feel _less_ self-conscious?" he asked, amused, obliging.

"Well, yes," Axel replied most bluntly, stroking the blond's arm with his fingertips.

"That's funny. It's working."

"Good." Axel drew the boy a little closer. If this were any other ball, he would have already put his clothes back on and left, leaving the boy to fall asleep alone, only to be woken up the next morning and evicted by housekeeping. But, for right now, there was nothing that he'd like to do more than fall asleep next to the blond, who seemed perfectly content to do the same. It was odd, because Axel generally wasn't a very cuddly person. Yes, he liked his little one-night stands, but touching or holding or anything afterwards was generally quite boring.

But this hadn't really felt like a one-night stand. This felt like the beginning of a long not-one-night stand, where Axel would spend countless nights or afternoons or mornings falling asleep next to this same mysterious boy. It was a very curious sensation that Axel wasn't really used to.

"I think I really like you," he said, kissing the boy gently on the lips.

"Mmm," was the reply. "I'd certainly hope so. I wouldn't want to sleep with someone who hated me."

"No, I meant that…I _really_ like you," Axel clarified. "Like, for real."

"Oh." The boy considered this for a moment. "That's good. I'd hoped it wasn't just me. I…guess…that's good, then."

He began to tremble a little. Axel, alarmed, searched for the covers—which had nearly been kicked off the bed, and drew them up to the boy's shoulder. Then, very tentatively, he took the boy up in his arms and kissed him again. "Are you alright?"

"Just cold," the boy said sleepily, closing his eyes again. "That's it. I'm cold."

"Alright," Axel said, even though he detected a strain in the boy's voice. "Are you sure?"

"Mhm," the boy murmured into Axel's shoulder. Axel rubbed his back a little, hoping that he wouldn't ever lose this feeling. It was nice.

"Why won't you tell me your name?" he whispered, but when he received no reply he looked down to realize that the boy was already asleep, his breathing even. Well, of course. He was probably just exhausted. Axel sighed contentedly and promised that he'd find out in the morning.

He settled his head on the pillow, and, still holding the mysterious boy, fell fast asleep as well.

---

Roxas wasn't asleep. He pretended that he was, so that Axel would stop trying to figure him out, but there was no way he could sleep now. Not when the clock outside was chiming fifteen minutes to midnight and he had so little time left here.

Axel, however, had finally fallen asleep, and Roxas couldn't help but just lay there and look at him. He knew he should be getting dressed and finding his carriage, but he didn't want to move. Not when Axel was right next to him, lying on his side, his green eyes closed, one arm still wrapped protectively around Roxas as if he knew the younger boy was going to leave him.

Roxas sighed and nestled his head against Axel's chest, feeling the steady rise and fall, listening to his heartbeat. It was so peaceful. Roxas had never been so happy, or so sad. He wished he didn't have to go. It was all Sora's fault. Curse him and his Level-15-Fairy-Godperson magic, whatever that was. Couldn't Roxas stay longer than midnight? Would it really be hurting anyone?

He knew the answer was yes. Even though Axel had been friendly towards him in the market, it certainly hadn't been anything serious. And the way Axel had spoken to him just now was much more serious, because he thought Roxas was someone else.

He really shouldn't stay any longer. That would just make it harder to leave.

Glancing backwards, Roxas saw that he had already wasted ten minutes just lying in Axel's arms. He didn't know whether to curse or cry. He opted for cursing, albeit under his breath and very, very softly.

Gently, he moved Axel's arm ever so slightly and murmured, "I'm so sorry." Easing away, he sat up and stepped onto the cold, stone floor. His clothes were all over the place. He found the long-legged underwear first and slipped it on, found the corset and decided that he didn't really feel like wearing it at the moment, and slipped back into the long shift instead. He picked up the petticoats and overdress and pressed them against his chest, with the corset, and started searching for those impractical glass shoes, which, somehow, had ended up on the floor by Axel's side of the bed.

He had just slipped them on when he felt a hand on his arm. Axel was looking up at him sleepily. "Hey," he said. "Where are you going?"

Roxas shook his head. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Axel reached up to touch his face. "Stay."

Frantically, Roxas glanced up at the clock. A minute to midnight. "I _can't_," he said, his voice breaking. "I—I _can't_. I'm sorry."

He turned and left. He heard Axel call for him, but didn't stop. Tears stung the corners of his eyes, but he swore that he wasn't going to cry. He couldn't. He wouldn't.

Roxas found his way back to the grand foyer. Somewhere off to his right, the grand clock struck twelve. He swallowed and ran faster, down the sprawling stairs. _One._ He wasn't going to cry. _Two_. It wasn't so hard to keep running now that he'd started. _Three_. He wasn't going to trip. _Four. Five._ His heel was starting to slip out of his shoe, but he had to keep running. _Six_. He'd reached the bottom of the stairs. _Seven_. The door. _Eight._ His shoe was gone, but he couldn't worry about it now. He could still hear Axel calling for him. _Nine._ He had to reach the gate. _Ten_. He wasn't going to. _Eleven._ He was.

_Twelve._

He could feel the dirt smudges return to his cheeks. His clothes had changed, too: instead of the long shift, he was wearing the one which went under the maid costume. That one was little more than a shirt. His legs were practically bare as well, because the underclothes he had to wear under the maid outfit were much skimpier than what he could wear under a ballgown. He knew he was holding that costume in his arms instead of the elegant blue dress. He still had that one shoe. It was the only thing which hadn't changed.

As he flew by, he glimpsed a star-shaped fruit, two Neoshadows, and four bewildered Heartless parked outside by the gate, wondering how they'd gotten there. Undaunted, Roxas kept running down the road until the palace had curved out of sight behind him. He was in the town proper, now, but there was no one to see a half-naked boy running through the streets. They were all at the ball.

Roxas threw himself behind one of the buildings to catch his breath. He sunk down to the ground, weary, his bare foot sore from beating against the cobblestones. He leaned his head back and gulped in air by the lungful.

It was then that he realized he'd probably never see Axel again.

He couldn't stop the tears now. They rolled down his cheeks as he sobbed, as he drew in his knees, resting his head between them. Although he tried very, very hard to picture something else, he could only think about the way Axel _smiled_ at him, the way he'd _spoken_ to him, the way…the way Roxas was going to vanish, and Axel was going to be so broken up about it. And Roxas, Roxas wanted to _die_.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there crying his eyes out. Long enough for the clock to chime again. Maybe more than once. Fifteen minutes, half an hour…He barely even heard the footsteps on the road, coming his way.

"I can't believe we have to walk home," said a boy's voice.

"Quit complaining. I know you had a good time," a girl admonished, laughter in her tone.

"I did _not_. I thought the entire thing was boring. And I had to wear this _awful_ suit."

"Oh, stop. You liked the dancing, didn't you?"

"Yeah, that was okay. But, Olette—"

"Hush. Do you hear something?"

Roxas tried to control himself, but it barely had an effect. His sobs gained a choke in them. He covered his face with his hands as the footsteps drew nearer.

"Olette, you can't just—you don't know who that is—"

There was a soft, warm hand on Roxas' shoulder. "Hi," Olette said softly. "Are you alright?"

"I'm _fine_," Roxas said without looking up, his voice muffled in his hands. "Just leave me alone."

"You heard him," Hayner said, sounding uncomfortable with the situation. "Let's go home, Olette. He says he's fine."

"He is _not_ fine. Does he look fine?" Olette stroked Roxas' hair. Taking in his appearance, she asked, "What happened? Did someone hurt you?"

Oh. She thought he'd been raped or some such thing. Understandable, since he was barely wearing pants. "No one hurt me," he said, his voice hardly audible. "Please go."

"We're not going to leave you here like this."

"Olette…" Hayner said.

"We're _not_," Olette repeated. "You'll freeze to death. Come with us. We'll get you some clothes."

Roxas looked up. "I guess…when you put it like that…I could use some clothes. _Real _clothes. If you don't mind?"

Olette gasped. "Roxas?"

"Roxas?" Hayner asked, approaching now, squinting in Roxas' face. "What the hell are you—of course we don't mind, you dolt. Here." He knelt down to brace Roxas' shoulders. Roxas grabbed his costume, which had been lying on the street beside him, and allowed Hayner to haul him up. "What are you _doing_ out here? What are you wearing?"

"It's a really long story," Roxas said weakly. "I kind of don't want to tell it all. Not right now." He looked up at Olette. "I feel—"

And everything went black.

When he woke up, he was lying on a cot with a wet cloth on his forehead. The first thing he noticed was that it was still dark outside the window. He was relieved. Maybe he had a chance of getting home before Marluxia noticed he'd been gone at all.

He was also wearing someone else's pants. Probably Hayner's. In the dim light coming from the candle on the small, wooden bedside table, he could see that the other boy was pacing the room. Olette was sitting by the bed in that pretty gown decorated with apricot colored ribbons.

"You're awake," she said. "Thank god. We were so—"

"Worried, you idiot!" Hayner interjected. "What the hell were you thinking, running around half-naked in the dark, carrying a dress?"

Roxas blinked, unsure of how to respond.

"Roxas," Olette said, seriously, quietly. "You aren't selling yourself, are you? Because, you know, we're your friends. We'll help you out."

"What?" Roxas sputtered, sitting up a little too quickly. He raised a hand to his head to stop the room from spinning. "Of course not! I just…" For the life of him, he couldn't come up with a reasonable explanation for the state they'd found him in. He closed his eyes and sighed.

And now that he'd distanced himself from the ball, he did feel an awful lot like he'd sold himself, somehow. He felt _cheap_. After all, he'd just slept with someone he barely knew, for almost no reason. And he liked Axel, but…And it seemed like a good idea at the time, but…He hugged the covers to his chest and shivered.

"You don't have to tell us if you don't want to," Olette added.

"No, no. I _want_ to…" Roxas was surprised that he actually did. "You just have to promise not to interrupt me. Or laugh. I'll try to make it short, but it's a long story. And it's pretty crazy." He looked from Hayner to Olette. "Okay?"

"Yeah," Hayner said.

"I don't expect you to believe me," Roxas said, "But here goes."

Once he started talking, the words just kept on coming. And coming. Hayner and Olette listened attentively, even through some of the parts that Roxas wouldn't have believed himself if he hadn't been there. When he finally reached the end, short of breath, Olette said:

"Surprisingly enough, I do believe you."

"Me, too," Hayner said. "But only because I don't think you could make half of that up. _Jesus_, Roxas. A fairy god_what_?"

"I don't _know_," Roxas moaned pitifully, digging his fingers into his scalp. "All I know is that I'm never going to get to see him again. Axel, I mean."

Hayner and Olette exchanged a glance. "Yeah," Hayner said. "You're probably right."

"Hayner!" Olette exclaimed.

"No, he's right," Roxas said. "And I guess it's all my own doing. I shouldn't be wallowing in self-pity." Gingerly, he stepped onto the floor with bare feet. "Do, um, do you guys have my clothes?"

"Yeah," said Olette. "They're in the other room. I'll go get them."

She bustled out. Roxas looked at Hayner. "You're really lucky," he said.

Hayner shrugged. "Well, you know. She's no handsome prince, but some of us have to settle." He grinned and cuffed Roxas across the ear. "Rox, when were you going to tell us?"

"Tell you what? That I liked men? Or that _I _was the girl at the ball?"

"Either. Both." Hayner scratched his chin. "I thought that girl looked a little familiar…"

Roxas almost smiled. Olette returned. "I brought you a pair of Hayner's shoes," she said. "You can't walk home barefoot. How far away is your, um, mansion?"

"It's not mine," Roxas said, "its Marluxia's. But it's a couple of miles out of town. I just need to make it back by daybreak." He slipped on Hayner's shoes. "I'll give these back to you, I promise."

Hayner waved him off. "Sure, sure. Thank me later."

Roxas hesitated for a second, then stepped forward and hugged him. Hayner remained frozen for a second, then wrapped his arms around Roxas and patted him on the back. "Take care, okay?" he said.

"Yeah," Roxas said. "You, too."

He let Hayner go and hugged Olette, who was much more receptive. "I hope everything works out," she whispered.

"Me, too," he said. "You have no idea how much."

Olette and Hayner led him to the door. As soon as he set foot outside, he started running. He glanced behind him and saw them waving. Hayner had his arm wrapped around Olette's waist, and she was leaning his head on his shoulder. They were so _perfect_.

Roxas sighed, feeling his heart break just that much more, and kept running.

---

King Xemnas was beginning to get a little impatient. Not that the ball wasn't diverting and all that, even though he had never had any particular fondness for balls. Xigbar had not yet reported back to him regarding Axel's mysterious lady. And, even though a palace custodian had whispered that he'd seen Axel and the girl in the blue dress retreating into the prince's chamber at around eleven, Xemnas still wanted Xigbar's intelligence. Perhaps he had discovered something regarding the identity of this girl.

Well, if Xemnas couldn't depend on his Council member, he'd have to take matters into his own hands. After all, an hour had passed. Surely the two lovebirds would be decent by this point, or, at least, in the mood for talking. Xemnas sighed and motioned to Saïx. Apparently, if he wanted something done right, he'd have to do it himself.

With as little pomp and circumstance as possible, the king exited the ballroom and made his way into the foyer. He had just climbed two of the steps that never were when he collided with his son, who aside from looking quite distraught, was clad only in a bed sheet, which he was clutching around his waist.

"Well," Xemnas said, eying his son speculatively. "I'm glad to see you've been productive, although it might help your public image if you put on some clothes. I believe the plan was that you weren't supposed to sleep with the bride _until_ the wedding night?"

"Gone," Axel said, his eyes wild.

Xemnas was a bit confused by this reaction, although he did not let it show on his face. "What? Do you mean that the only girl you have shown interest in, the mother of my future grandson, has vanished?"

Axel stared. "Um, yeah, sure," he said. "Let's go with that."

"This is unacceptable!" Xemnas boomed. "Saïx, you are to send out a search party immediately. Interrogate every eligible maiden in the land. We cannot let this girl escape, she is too important." Belatedly, he noted that a few of the princesses had come out of the ballroom to see what all the commotion was about, and were very, very busy ogling his son. "And Axel, get dressed," he added.

"Your Majesty," Saïx said. "How will we prove that it's the right girl? After all, there are many blue-eyed blondes in our Land that Never Was."

This was indeed a fair point. Xemnas had to stop and think for a minute.

"I have the answer to that," said Xigbar.

Xemnas turned to see his third-in-command standing in the doorway, looking a bit more leafy and bedraggled than usual. His somewhat damp and equally leafy Indian slave boy was standing behind him, holding something shiny in his hand.

"I found it," Demyx announced proudly. He was ignored.

"Man, we've got her now," Xigbar said. "Look. The maiden's shoe. If we just try this shoe on all of the girls in the land, we'll find her, right?"

Everyone nodded. The only objection, surprisingly, came from Axel. "But, um, what if…_she_…has the same shoe size as someone else?"

He, too, was ignored. Everyone knew that no two maidens had the same shoe size. They were the bipedal equivalent of snowflakes.

"Start now, Saïx," Xemnas commanded. "Do not rest until that shoe has been placed on the foot of every eligible maiden in the land! Except them," he amended, indicating the crowd of girls who had gathered to stare at his son. "It's obviously none of them."

The girls groaned.

Xemnas, however, felt much better. Perhaps this situation could be salvaged after all.

---

"Sora?"

Sora stirred a little, not wanting to wake. He was very comfortable where he was, thanks.

"Sora, wake up."

Instead of doing what the nice voice said, Sora snuggled closer to its source, and he felt a hand ruffle his hair gently, then a little more roughly. "Sora," the voice said again.

Sora murmured sleepily. He thought he'd never get tired of hearing Riku say his name in all the ways that it could be said, like just plain old regular "Sora," and "Oh, God, _Sora_," which Riku had said a little while ago, and this new, gentle sort of "Wake up, Sora" which Riku was saying now. Of course, then Riku started shaking Sora's shoulder, so he figured it might be best to crack open an eye and say, "Hi."

"Hi to you, too," Riku said, rewarding Sora with a small smile. He looked best when he was smiling. Sora thought that he should do it more often. "We should get up now."

Sora leaned into Riku's shoulder, looking up at him through long, brown eyelashes. "Why?"

"Because I'm pretty sure trespassing on the king's lawn is a serious offense. Or we'll freeze to death before anyone catches us, which will be equally bad." Riku fidgeted slightly. "Also, as much as I've enjoyed watching you sleep in my lap, my leg is asleep."

Sora blinked, realizing that, indeed, he had fallen asleep sitting in Riku's lap, and felt the strange impulse to blush again, even though he and Riku had certainly done worse than lap sitting by then. In fact, thinking about that actually made Sora blush. Riku, noting his embarrassment, laughed, and Sora didn't like that much, so he said, "Alright. Getting up now."

As soon as Sora was off, he located his jacket and a few various other missing pieces of clothing and began putting them back on, because Riku was right, it _was_ cold, especially when one was only wearing pants and a very thin undershirt. He winced a little when he sat down to pull up his very nice boots, and Riku, who was already dressed, noted his discomfort and crawled over, pressing his lips lightly against Sora's temple. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

Sora rewarded him with a cocky little grin. "Don't be. Just let me pay you back someday."

"Deal." Riku ruffled his hair again. "Should we be heading back to your coach? I mean, I assume it will take us back to wherever you live. I want to get out of here."

"Um." Sora realized with a pang that it was almost two in the morning, and that the coach would have vanished by now. It was a good thing he'd only used the tiniest amount of magic in making their clothes, otherwise those would be gone, too. However, Sora wasn't quite sure what to do now. "My driver's probably asleep," he said, by which he meant that his driver no longer existed. "We could…walk?"

He tried to stand, but his legs had fallen asleep as well, and he staggered, but Riku was there, steadying him with a hand. "I'm not sure if you can walk that far," he said. "I could carry you."

"No!" Sora squawked indignantly. "I have _some_ dignity, Riku."

"Hmm…how much would it take to convince you to temporarily misplace it?"

"A whole lot." Sora thought for a minute. It would take too much MP to magic up a new coach. He could easily fly them away, but he couldn't do that without revealing his identity. And, besides, what could he possibly do with Riku? He couldn't bring a human to Fairyland. "Oh! We could ask Kairi for a ride. She's a Princess of Heart. I'm sure they have a coach we could use."

Riku looked uncomfortable with the thought of asking Kairi for anything, perhaps still a little jealous, but he nodded and said, "Sure, why not?"

They made their long, hesitant way back to the ballroom, and Riku did end up carrying Sora at some point, although Sora was sure he was doing it just to be contrary and pounded half-heartedly against his chest, demanding to be released. Riku put him down before they got back to the ballroom, and he brushed himself off, straightened his jacket, and made to storm off, but Riku took his hand, then, and Sora didn't let it go.

They found Kairi sitting by the side of the ballroom, chatting animatedly with another princess who was much blonder but equally lovely. She looked up when she saw them. "Oh, hi, Sora!" She paused, and looked at Riku, who was still holding Sora's hand. "And you must be Riku, I guess." Another pause. "This is Naminé. She's from the land of—"

"A land with a very long name that I'm sure Kairi doesn't want to repeat," Naminé interjected, flashing both of them a pearly-white smile. "It's very nice to meet you. Kairi's told me a lot about you, Sora."

Sora and Riku glanced at each other, thinking the same thing: if they were two straight guys, they would be so lucky right now. Unfortunately for Kairi and Naminé, however, they weren't.

"I'm glad to see you two have hit it off," said Sora, who felt a small twinge of remorse for leaving Kairi alone while he went off to spend some alone time with Riku, and was glad that she'd found a friend. "We were wondering if we could borrow a coach of yours, Kai. Ours has been, um, temporarily misplaced."

"I see…well, that's no problem. I can just give you one of my sisters' coaches. I'm sure they won't miss them," Kairi said brightly. "Say, can I talk to Riku for a second?"

Sora glanced at Riku, who shrugged, so he nodded and let Kairi lead his friend (boyfriend, maybe?) away. Naminé quietly excused herself, leaving Sora alone with his thoughts. What was he going to do? Even if he managed to smuggle Riku away, Sora wouldn't be able to stay with him. In fact, he was due to report back to his fairy superiors and teachers by the next sundown. But he _liked_ Riku, and Riku, just as importantly, liked _him_. Sora didn't want to abandon him. Sora wanted to take him, too. But he was a human, and humans generally weren't allowed to have long-lasting relations with fairies: as specified in the Fairy Code, such relationships were taboo. And Sora should have remembered that before getting involved, but he couldn't really help it. After all, Riku was so attractive, and in need of a hand, and what were fairy godpeople good for if not for lending a hand? And then it had all spiraled out of control from there. Perhaps if Sora were a higher-ranking fairy he could come to some kind of compromise, but he was still practically in _training_, really. No. He'd have to leave Riku behind.

And then Riku would find out about Sora's true identity. Sora sighed. He just couldn't win.

"Hey," Riku said, just coming back from his conversation with Kairi. "Why do you look so down?"

"It's nothing," Sora replied, feeling vaguely guilty. "Hey, what did Kai say to you?"

Riku chuckled. "She said that if I broke your heart she'd break my neck. I believe her. I told her I had no intention of doing so." Sora only laughed weakly at that, and Riku frowned. "Are you sure you're alright?"

_It's you who should be worried about getting your heart broken,_ Sora thought, and he opened his mouth and began with "Riku, I think there's something I need to—"

His confession ended rather painfully in a yelp as someone seized his hair.

"Well, well, well," said the intimidating pink-haired woman who owned the hand which was currently buried in Sora's hair. Her voice was very deep, and after a second of confused blinking, Sora realized that she was not, in fact, a woman. She was, in fact, Marluxia. "What do we have here?" Roxas' evil stepmother asked.

"Hey!" Sora yelped. "You have no right to go around grabbing innocent people by the hair!"

"Innocent," Marluxia repeated. "I don't think you are. After all, aren't you the reason he's here?"

Sora glanced over at Riku, who was struggling against both Vexen and Larxene. He was doing rather well, in fact, until Larxene pulled a dagger on him. He froze. Sora understood. Having a lethal blonde girl pointing something sharp at your throat was not the optimal condition for fighting. Sora would have summoned his Keywand, but he wasn't allowed to use that on civilians who didn't need his help. He'd learned that the hard way when he'd turned a particularly ornery farmer into a mule, and had been severely reprimanded.

When Sora didn't respond, Marluxia shook him by the hair and demanded, "Answer me!" in a very, very alarming tone of voice.

Sora glared. "You were keeping him locked in the basement!"

Vexen had now handed Riku over to Larxene entirely. "Of course," he said, sounding bored. "I wouldn't want to lose my best lab assistant. Especially not to some little brat like you, who has no appreciation of his talents."

"I do too appreciate his talents!" Sora exclaimed. "He can do some _crazy_ things with his—"

"You two are not thinking of the same talents, I'd hope," Riku said, shooting Sora a "shut up, _now_" glare. "What are you going to do with Sora?"

Marluxia grinned. It was terrifying. "I'm sure we'll find _some_ use for him. I have Roxas, Vexen has you…perhaps I should give him to Larxene." Riku growled. Larxene, on the other hand, smiled most wickedly. "However, we should be heading back to our mansion. Come along, Sora."

Not that Sora had a choice. He shot Riku one last tortured glance—_I'm so sorry_—before Marluxia dragged him out of the ballroom and out to the gate by his hair.

---

_**A/N:**_ After last chapter's high note, we had to go somewhere, no? Wonder what'll happen next…hehe.


	8. Chapter VIII

**_A/N:_** Eek! I'm so sorry for not updating in what feels like forever! My life was eaten entirely by schoolwork and extracurriculars, and I lost my drive to write a little because we are SO CLOSE to the end! Just one or two chapters more, and perhaps an epilogue. And I didn't really want to see it end, so, come last Friday, I thought, "You know what? If I don't write it, it will never end!"

Bad idea, friends. Very, very bad idea. It will never happen again, promise.

With that said, many, many thanks to **LawlietxRinoa, Zexion Llama, Lavender341, Only-Slightly-Obsessed-Un, kelseywazhere, nextstopparadise, Mitsuru Aki, Lanamax Kurosaki, Insanecat6, iluvtoady, **and **b4k4 ch4n** for their fabulous reviews. Thanks to everyone who faved and alerted as well, and don't be shy! Leave a comment if you like it.

So, like I said, we are fairly close to the end, but that doesn't mean I can't sneak one or two cliffhangers in there. Next update will be in less time, I promise. Enjoy!

...also, if one of the characters in this chapter does not ring any bells, look for him in chapter one. He had an interaction with Roxas.

---

**Chapter VIII**

Axel was a wreck.

He'd acquired the habit of pacing back and forth in his room with his hands behind his back and the door locked. He hadn't eaten. He'd barely slept. He hadn't spoken a word. He'd burned down two draperies, a small stable, and his father's best wooden dining table, and been locked in his room because of it.

And it had only been twelve hours since the boy disappeared.

Axel pounded against the door of his room in frustration, unsure of what he could possibly do to remedy the situation. After all, his father had dispatched Saïx to look for his lost "lady" love, and he knew he couldn't possibly insist on conducting his own investigation—it would look odd. Saïx was efficient, capable, and professional, and if he couldn't find the "girl" Axel had been dancing with, then no one, much less Axel, who was considered a bit of a lack wit anyway by his father, would be able to.

At least, that was the popular opinion. What his father and the Council didn't know was that Saïx-puppy would be barking up the wrong tree entirely. Namely, a female tree.

Sighing, Axel realized that his fists would probably give out before his door did and sat on his bed, frustrated and dejected, scowling at everything and nothing. Fate was surely out to get him. He finally found a boy who made him feel something more than physical and that boy vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving only a shoe as a clue. The shoe itself was now firmly in the possession of Saïx, but Axel felt that he had no real use for it anyway. Unlike those fools on the Council, he would know the boy the moment he saw him. He was sure of it.

And hadn't the nameless boy looked a bit familiar in the first place? Axel wasn't sure, but he would have been willing to bet that he'd seen him before. He'd just have to figure out when and where.

Perhaps a walk in the garden would help jog his memory.

For the first time that day, Axel grinned. His father had locked the door, but not the windows, and his room was only on the second story. Not so far to fall. He pulled on his best walking boots and pushed the blinds aside in what he considered a most dramatic and heroic gesture. Then he opened the windows, perched on the ledge, and pushed off—

—only to land flat on his behind in a rather prickly bush.

"Ow…"

He winced, and put out a hand to push himself up when he felt something smooth under his fingers. Something which rather felt suspiciously like leather.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw that one of the Council member's black robes was lying on the ground, simply forgotten by its owner. Strange. Axel wondered briefly why it might be there and then remembered that Xigbar had come in the previous night wearing a shirt and trousers instead of his robe and looking uncharacteristically leafy. His pretty slave boy had looked a bit disheveled as well. Perhaps they had…?

Oh, wow. _That_ was a mental image Axel didn't want at all. He smacked his forehead and detangled himself from the bush's thorny clutches, picking up the robe and slipping it on. Xigbar's carelessness would prove helpful. After all, Axel was theoretically banished to his room, but a member of the Council of Five could come and go as he pleased. And that band of incompetents had taken to prowling around the palace with their hoods up, acting all self-important. Axel would fit in perfectly.

He zipped up the robe, glad that he and Xigbar were of a size. The black leather was a little snug on his arms but fit perfectly everywhere else. He caught his reflection in a palace window and decided that no, it wasn't really a bad look for him at all, even if the garment was rather hot.

Or perhaps that was just him?

Flashing himself a grin, Axel pulled up the hood, hiding his hair and casting most of his face in shadow. Now he could do whatever he wanted without worrying about what his father thought.

Instead of going through the garden, Axel walked back into the cool rooms of the palace, thinking on his father's fanatical determination to keep his kingdom. Not that Axel couldn't see where he as coming from. After all, he had had to work rather hard to snag this Land that Never Was. Xemnas, Axel recalled, had simply been the prime minister when Axel was only a few years old. And then came the coup d'état, which meant that Xemnas was king and Axel suddenly became a prince. And he rather liked being a prince, but he wasn't so keen on being King Axel I. He wasn't really cut out for that sort of thing. He'd probably just drain the royal treasury and spend his free time watching plays and seducing young men.

And he knew Xemnas wouldn't stand for that. After all, he wouldn't let this kingdom be retaken by Ansem the Wise, who was still out there biding his time. And he certainly wouldn't let a weak son ruin his legacy.

Axel shook his head. Well, his father would just have to procure some other obscure heir. He planned on finding his mysterious little love and disappearing off somewhere nice. Perhaps Destiny Islands. Or Greece.

Which brought him back full circle. How was he supposed to find the boy when he didn't have any real clues besides his age and his favorite food?

Just then, he heard a voice from a room off to his right, and swept behind a column. Wondering why he was being so paranoid, he peeked back out and saw that it was simply two members of the palace staff, a pimply herald (by his drab, grey clothing bearing the royal insignia) and one of the royal garbage boys, hauling a bag behind him as he emerged from a chamber. No doubt cleaning up after last night's ball. Axel almost stepped out from behind the column and continued on his way until he overheard what the herald was saying.

"You remember that boy you told me about?"

"What, the one in the maid getup?" the garbage boy replied. "The blond one, sorta girly? What about him?"

The pimply herald shrugged. "He's tougher than he looks."

"What, you mean—" The garbage boy stared, then doubled over, clutching his stomach, hooting in laughter. "Aw, man! How desperate _are_ you?"

Glaring, the herald said, "Well, he's practically a girl, you know?"

"_Practically_ is not the same thing as _actually_. I'm surprised you even managed to get close. That 'stepmother' of his…" The garbage boy shook his head. "Family of freaks, all of them. Cross-dressing freaks."

Axel stepped out from behind the column at that moment, not believing his good luck. Perhaps Fate wasn't that cruel after all.

The two boys jumped, alarmed at being overheard. Saïx or another actual member of the Council might have reprimanded them for goofing off, but Axel wasn't about to do so, not now. Instead, he seized the herald by the shoulders and shook him. "This family of cross-dressing freaks, with that boy in it, where do they live?" he demanded.

"Uh, by the outskirts of town, in the big m-mansion," replied the rather shell-shocked herald. "The one with the huge keyhole on the g-gates? Uh, s-sir."

Axel released the herald and almost ran off, but then thought to ask one more question. Perhaps the most important one. "And, that boy. Blond, blue-eyed, kinda small?"

"Um, yes, sir."

"Do you know his name?"

Alarmed, the herald glanced at his friend, who shrugged and said, "I didn't ever really ask, sir. I think…Rox…something?"

Axel nearly fainted.

_It all made sense now_.

"You two," he said to the boys, his heart beating wildly. "As long as you don't go around harassing anyone ever again, you're getting a raise. Both of you."

"Um, yes, my liege," said the bewildered pimply herald.

"And thanks a bunch, sir," added the puzzled garbage boy.

But Axel had already run off to the stables to find a coach. He needed to get to that mansion. Pronto.

---

Roxas woke up that morning in his own lumpy cot, aching, hungry, and empty, unwilling to get out of bed. Unwilling to do anything, really. He sighed and closed his eyes, hugging his rather flat pillow to his chest, shutting his eyes desperately against the sunlight, trying, unsuccessfully, to ignore the sounds of the happily chirping birds.

And then he realized that the sunlight and the birdsong were signs that he should have been up hours ago. Marluxia was going to _kill_ him.

Not that he would mind by this point, but whatever.

He sat up rather abruptly, flinging his pillow to the side, and then had to freeze as his face twisted in pain. Running home and several of the previous night's other activities had left him incredibly sore. His exposed skin—his arms, mainly, and his face—was coated in a layer of grime from tripping and falling several times on the way home. Well, at least he looked on the outside like he felt on the inside.

Roxas was just about to start getting dressed in that awful, stupid costume of his when he saw that someone had slipped a sheet of parchment under his door. Very, very carefully, he bent down to pick it up. A note, scrawled in black ink and Marluxia's elegant cursive, instructed him not to wake his stepfamily, as they would no doubt sleep until well into the afternoon, and to prepare a rather large brunch for them when they awoke.

Sighing in relief, Roxas tossed the note onto his bed. Well, he'd be able to avoid any questions as to why he hadn't cleaned the mansion from top to bottom while his stepfamily was out at the ball for a little while. He might even be able to wake up properly. He glanced out the window and guessed from the position of the sun and the strength of the light that it might be ten in the morning. He could tarry for two hours, then.

Welcoming the extra time, he took advantage of his slumbering stepsiblings to steal into Larxene's bathroom and wash himself thoroughly, but he still couldn't wash away the layer of shame and dishonesty that had somehow seeped into his skin while he was sleeping. Not even the strawberry-scented soap could combat it. Quietly, regretfully, he toweled himself off and made sure that he'd left everything just as he found it.

After dressing in his usual ensemble, he headed down to the kitchen to prepare the brunch, nibbling on a bit of bread and cheese himself and drinking a bit of water to banish the quivering feeling in his knees. At least now he wouldn't faint from dehydration or exhaustion. He wished, vaguely, that Sora was around to help him out again, but knew that his fairy godself was probably long gone and might have even spirited Riku away as well. It was unfortunate, really: why couldn't he wait to see his mission through to completion?

Roxas shook his head and went about cutting up some fruit, arranging it artfully on a tray. He had just finished positioning a bunch of grapes when he heard someone knocking on the door. He abandoned his project and went to answer before the unexpected guest could wake Marluxia, Vexen, or Larxene.

Opening the door, he was surprised to see a familiar face. Or, rather, two familiar faces. "Hayner? Olette? What are you doing here?"

"I came for my pants," Hayner said casually. "And shoes. I need those shoes."

Olette elbowed him in the gut. "What my insensitive boyfriend means to say is that we came to check up on you. How are you?"

Roxas considered this question. He hadn't really wanted to think about how he was. "Tired, I guess. Sore." Olette looked at him expectantly, and he realized that she wanted to know about _feelings_. He sighed. "I'm not feeling anything, really. I think my brain's trying to shut it all out."

"That can't be healthy."

He leaned against the doorframe, unintentionally allowing Hayner and Olette to get an eyeful of his maid costume. "I don't know. I think my system's in shock. It hasn't really had a reason to feel so happy or so sad in such a short space of time. I mean, the whole 'Axel probably feels awful right now and so do I' part's kinda cancelling out the 'wow, he's in love with me' part or even the 'hey, I got laid' part."

Hayner whistled. "It takes a lot to cancel out that last part." He received a glare from Olette, and he would have gotten one from Roxas, too, if Roxas had had the strength for it, or if he felt like reprimanding his friend for trying to make him laugh.

"I'll go get your clothes," was all he said. "Come inside and wait in the foyer, but be quiet: Marluxia and company are asleep."

And, with that, he disappeared into the mansion, unwilling to interact with anyone any longer. He climbed the stairs to his room and retrieved Hayner's pants and shoes, a little dirty from use, and returned to find his friends looking, wide eyed, at the high ceiling and grand staircase of the foyer.

"Oh, Roxas," Olette said, a bit breathless. "Why didn't you tell us you lived here? We would have come and visited you much sooner! It must be lonely living in this big place without any friends."

"Eh," said Hayner. "Too many flowers for my taste. Besides, I don't think he would have wanted us to come visit when he looked like _that_." He nodded in Roxas' direction and added, "Not that you don't look good in a skirt or anything."

"Nah, I get it." Roxas couldn't even bring himself to feel sheepish about his clothing. "I'm pretty sick of getting looked at. You know, I was always so jealous that you guys got to wear whatever you wanted whenever you wanted."

Hayner and Olette shared a smile. "That's not always true," Olette said. "My mother made me raise the neckline of that dress I wore to the ball by two or three inches." She adopted a stern face and intoned, "'Young lady, you are not to wear anything that scandalous under my roof.'"

"Wish she'd let you," Hayner muttered. "Would've made that stupid ball much more fun."

Olette blushed and, despite himself, Roxas smiled a bit at that. "I'm afraid I have the opposite problem," he said. "This skirt is almost too short to function."

"Yeah, my mum would have a field day scolding your step, uh, mother," Olette added. "Speaking of which, is there anything we can do for you while we're here?"

"Not unless you feel like helping me with brunch—"

"Ooh!" And Olette flew past him, instinctively seeking out the kitchen. Hayner turned to Roxas and shrugged, and they followed.

With three pairs of hands working in the kitchen instead of just one pair, it was easy to get the rolls made, the bacon fried, the water boiling, and the potatoes cooked to satisfaction. Olette, apparently, had a secret love for cooking and was quite good at it. When they had completed all of the tasks, the three of them leaned up against the counter and sipped their tea, satisfied.

"That wasn't so bad," Olette said, her face a bit flushed from all of the bustling around. She swallowed another mouthful of tea, pleased with herself, when her eyes widened and she nearly choked. "I completely forgot why we came in the first place!"

"Not to get Hayner's clothes back?" Roxas asked.

"No, no, _no_!" she exclaimed. "Oh, I am such an idiot. Roxas, the king's sent the Council of Five out to search the houses of every eligible maiden in the land. They have your shoe!"

Both Hayner and Roxas sarted at her, not comprehending the strange non sequitur. She looked at them with exasperation and then elaborated. "It's the only way they have to identify you. They're going to try that shoe on the foot of every single girl in the kingdom. And it won't fit _any _of them, because none of them are you! And then…" She paused and shrugged. "I don't know what they're going to do."

Realization dawned on Hayner. "So that means…"

"I have to get that shoe on my foot," Roxas finished. "But how? I'm not a girl, and I doubt King Xemnas will accept me as a daughter-in-law, no matter what I'm wearing."

The three friends looked rather unsettled, and set down their teacups, deep in thought. Twice Olette seemed to have an idea, but she just screwed up her face, sighed, and went back to thinking. Roxas considered several options, but none were all that practical if he didn't want to be exiled or thrown in jail. It seemed to be a pretty hopeless situation, all in all.

"Roxas?" Marluxia called from the dining room. "Are you in there?"

And it just got that much more hopeless.

"Leave," Roxas hissed through his teeth, shoving Hayner and Olette towards the back door of the kitchen. "I'll get killed if he finds out that I have friends here."

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" Olette asked, her voice laden with concern.

"I'll certainly be less than alright if you two stick around," Roxas managed, pushing past them to open the door. "Now _go_!"

He pushed them out the door and slammed it behind them just as Marluxia walked into the room, already dressed in a splendid sky-blue dress. He looked suspiciously around the room, but, finding brunch made and nothing overtly amiss, said simply, "Did I hear voices from this room?"

"No, ma'am," Roxas said. "Just talking to myself."

"Hm." Marluxia cast one very long, very appraising look at Roxas, who said nothing but thought one, awful thought—_he knows!_—before Marluxia swept out of the room, leaving Roxas to carry the tray full of brunch out behind him.

Vexen and Larxene were awake and dressed as well, and Roxas served them in silence, unable to meet their eyes. Perhaps they had seen him at the previous night's ball as well. If they hadn't seen him they certainly had seen the "girl" with whom Axel was dancing, a girl who looked suspiciously like Roxas…

"Did _you_ have a productive night, Roxas?" said Marluxia, his voice flat and rather expressionless. Roxas nearly spilled the tea he had been pouring.

"Ma'am?"

"Weeding the garden."

Marluxia's eyes bored into Roxas'. The boy swallowed and said, "Ma'am, I spent so much time with the garden that I wasn't able to finish with the rest of the house. Ma'am."

Marluxia said nothing in response, and simply sipped his tea. For about the seventeenth time that day, Roxas wanted to die. Instead, fighting to keep his voice from betraying him, he curtsied slightly and said, "If you won't be needing me, ma'am, I could go about cleaning the rest of the house now."

There was a sort of wickedness in Marluxia's face which did not bode well for Roxas. "I'm afraid that you—" he began, but was cut off by the sound of approaching hoof beats.

Larxene stood up suddenly and moved to the window. "Mother!" she exclaimed. "A royal carriage!"

Vexen, completely uninterested, continued to play with his fruit. Marluxia, however, joined his daughter at the window. "So it is. Girls, make yourselves presentable." He then rounded on Roxas. "_You_."

"Stay out of sight," Roxas said, unwilling to quibble at that moment. He could figure out an escape strategy later. Some way to attract the attention of the Council members. Pretend he was a girl. Get that shoe. "Right, ma'am?"

"Wrong," said Marluxia. "Very, very wrong."

Without warning, or, rather, with ample warning which Roxas just failed to interpret, he grabbed Roxas' arm and hauled him through the kitchen, towards the back door, as Roxas, his strength suddenly renewed, punched and kicked against him, to no avail. When they reached the door, Marluxia hauled Roxas to a standing position and waggled a manicured finger in front of his face.

"_You_," he hissed. "I wasn't sure until we caught the fairy boy, but now I am certain. It was you at the ball last night."

"Let me _go_," Roxas cried, trying to worm out of Marluxia's grasp. "I don't know what you're talking about. What fairy?"

"A young one who looks remarkably like you. Don't lie to me, Roxas. As a graduate of Villain Secondary School, I am remarkably adept at extracting the truth from those who are unwilling." Marluxia smoothed his shirt with his free hand. "Your little friend was most unwilling."

Roxas stopped struggling for a moment and stared. "What did you do to Sora?"

"Nothing that will damage him _permanently_." Marluxia pushed open the back door and pulled Roxas through it. "Just something keep him out of my hair for long enough to fix this ghastly situation. Should the prince come looking here, he will be most unsuccessful at finding you. He will, however, find two perfectly eligible maidens to help him forget about you."

"You're mad!" Roxas exclaimed.

"Not mad," Marluxia corrected. "Calculating. And _you_ will not interfere with my plans any longer."

With that, he opened the doors to the cellar and flung Roxas down the stairs. It would have been most painful if he hadn't landed on something much more forgiving than ground, something which cried out in pain when Roxas hit it.

"Riku?" Roxas asked, squinting to make out the other boy's form in the darkness.

"Roxas," Riku said, a worrying edge to his voice. He shrugged Roxas off of his back and grabbed the other boy's shoulders. "You need to help us get out of here."

Roxas watched as Marluxia closed the cellar door with an evil smile, shutting all light out of the damp, chilly room.

"That's easier said than done," he said dryly, waiting for his eyes to grow accustomed to the darkness. "I need to get out myself. There might be a prince up there waiting for me. Do you have anything explosive, by any chance?"

"No," Riku said. "No, it's not—shit. I need to get him up there soon. Sora? Sora, God, _please_, don't do this."

Roxas felt a chill down his spine. "What's the matter?"

Riku turned his striking, desperate eyes on Roxas. "It's Sora," he said. "He won't wake up."

---

**_A/N:_** Dun dun dunnnnn. What will happen to Sora? Will he, Riku, and Roxas be above-ground by the time Axel sets foot in the mansion? Or will Axel fall prey to the "feminine wiles" of Marluxia and his lovely "daughters?"

...-gigglesnort- Well, you never know. Reviews (as well as any comments or theories as to what might happen) make a happy author and a quicker update. See you next time!


	9. Chapter IX

**_A/N_**: Yay for quicker update! I don't have much time for an author's note, but I have to say I'm happy for updating two stories this week _(Cheap Motel_ is the other, but it's entirely different from this one. Much darker.)! Thanks to **Lady Shisou, Revolution Remix IX, sorceress115, xAkuRoku, Hyperactiveice, Mitsuru Aki, Vanilla Jewelz, Lanamax Kurosaki, Zexion Llama, nextstopparadise, LawlietxRinoa, loki lee, **and **Insanecat6** for their awesome reviews!

I can definitely say from this point that after this there will only be one more chapter and an epilogue. I'm sad to see it come to an end, but I've had a blast writing it, and it's the longest thing I've ever written. Yay continuity!

I'm working on another AkuRoku story after this one, so keep your eyes peeled.

Much love for all of the faves, alerts, and reviews, and enjoy chapter Demyx! I mean, nine. Silly me.

---

**Chapter IX**

Roxas was talking, but Riku barely heard him. All of his attention was fairly consumed by the brown-haired boy in his arms. Sora's breathing was easy, but he felt far too warm, and he wouldn't wake no matter how much or how hard Riku shook him. Concerned, but knowing that there was nothing much more he could do, Riku stroked Sora's hair and tuned back into Roxas.

"…and if we could just find a _light_," Roxas was saying. "There has to be a candle or something around here. I've been down here be_fore_, and Marluxia usually keeps something to around light up the room."

"Where?" Riku asked.

"Along the wall somewhere. Here, let me look for it."

Ordinarily, Riku would insist on doing that sort of thing himself, but he was content just then to hold onto Sora and listen to Roxas' heels scrape against the pebbles in the dirt floor of the cellar. He heard a couple of muffled exclamations and some cursing as Roxas made a circuit around the room, feeling the wall for anything resembling a light source. After a few minutes, he sat down next to Riku, disheartened.

"Marluxia must have taken it away," he said, venom in his tone. "That _bastard_. He was obviously planning to throw me down here and didn't want me to get out. How long do you think he's known it was me?"

"What was you?" Riku asked. "The girl at the ball? I think your step, uh, mother, has always suspected, but she—he—_whatever_, didn't have any proof of it until…"

He trailed off, pressing Sora closer to him, as if the boy in his arms could hear them and wouldn't want Riku to continue speaking. Naturally, Roxas was curious.

"Until when?"

"I'm not sure," Riku admitted. "He caught the two of us at the ball together, and I thought he was just going to hand me back over to Vexen, but he took Sora as well. Seemed to find him interesting. And when we got home, he left Sora and me under Larxene's watch and went into the kitchen. He was in there for about fifteen minutes, working away at something—"

"Weird. He always makes me do all of the cooking."

"I don't think he _was _cooking." Riku looked up at Roxas. "Did you know that Marluxia can brew potions?"

Roxas seemed to be taken aback by this revelation. "What, do you mean he's some kind of wizard? He's never done any magic that I've seen. But, I guess Vexen must have gotten his science from _somewhere_…"

Riku shook his head. "No, not magic. I don't believe in that sort of stuff. I'm talking about the more ordinary kind of potion—the kind that Marluxia could make using the herbs in his garden."

"Wait," Roxas said. "Wait. Back up. You don't believe in magic?"

"Not real magic. I mean, I think that people who go around calling themselves witches and wizards just have a lot of charisma and excel at creating illusions. I think healers just know which herbs to use and when to use them. I've never seen a fairy or a unicorn. So, no, I think magic is just a pretty lie which parents feed their children to keep imaginations alive, and I don't believe it exists. Is that a problem?"

"Um, no, not for me. It's pretty ironic, though." Even in the darkness, and despite their situation, Riku thought that he saw Roxas hiding a smile behind his hand. "I think you and Sora might disagree on that point. But—" He rushed to change the topic. "—that's not important right now. What do you mean, Marluxia brews potions?"

"He gave Sora…" Riku glanced down at Sora again, as if the sound of his name might have woken him. It hadn't. "Something. He brought in this flask full of something purple. And Sora almost went into shock. He started yelling, saying that he didn't want to drink it, that Marluxia wouldn't be able to make him, but Marluxia overpowered him and took him back into the kitchen. Soon afterwards, I couldn't hear him anymore." Riku cupped Sora's cheek in his palm. "I think it must have been a truth serum of some kind."

"Wow." Roxas considered this. "I guess it makes sense. I mean, he might have been slipping something into my food for years, to keep me obedient. It's sort of odd that I haven't tried to run away from Marluxia, don't you think? Even when I could have stayed with Axel, who probably would have protected me, and who probably wouldn't have cared that I was actually a maid in my other life. I'm such an _idiot_."

"That you are."

Riku's remark was ignored. "But it does make sense…Marluxia probably learned how to make those potions at Villain Secondary School. Who knows what sort of curriculum they have there?"

It was Riku's turn to be taken aback. "Wait, Villain Secondary School? Marluxia went there?"

"That's what he said. Do you know about it? I've never heard of it."

"That's two people in the past day who've gone to that school," Riku said. "I thought I'd never hear about it again. It's a pretty prestigious place. The best in evil education. I was accepted there, actually, and I went there until a year or two ago."

"_Really_?"

"Yeah." Riku couldn't bring himself to smile at the memories, but he felt some sort of odd satisfaction welling up inside of him as he recalled the days he'd spent there. "I was expelled."

Roxas had to choke back some laughter at that. "You were expelled from _villain school_?!"

"I had a little too much goodness in my heart, apparently," Riku explained. "I kept failing the ruthlessness tests. I couldn't even be properly possessed by evil spirits, I think because I continued to deny their existence. Not that I minded being kicked out. It was a pretty awful place if you're a person who doesn't sitting in the dark all of the time." He sighed. "But I almost wished I'd stayed. Then I might have been able to learn enough about potions to cure Sora."

"Hmm. Well, do we have any other clues?"

"Nothing. Marluxia came out of that room and Sora was already unconscious. Then he threw us both down here."

"Ah." Roxas thought for a minute. "Well, I do know that Marluxia keeps a lot of his extra herbs down there, but we don't know what we're doing and it's too dark to read the labels. We might end up poisoning him."

Riku looked down at Sora, but, of course, Sora hadn't heard any of that and couldn't react properly to the prospect of being poisoned. Riku, however, felt alarmed enough for both of them. "So what can we do?" he asked quietly.

Roxas paused again, then said, very slowly, "There is a common folk remedy for waking people from enchanted sleeps…"

"What?" Riku's eyes widened. "Wait, you don't mean…"

Roxas nodded.

"But that only works in fairytales!" Riku exclaimed. "Besides, he's not in an enchanted sleep. He's drugged. There's a difference."

"I can see why Vexen thought you were a good assistant," Roxas muttered. "So realistic. Look, I know it's not the most promising way to wake him up, but it's all that we've got right now. Besides, you wouldn't happen to have any problem with kissing Sora, would you?"

Riku raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't think so. What's the harm?"

To tell the truth, Riku wasn't sure what the harm was. If Sora didn't wake up, then they weren't going to be any worse off than they were at the moment. But that also meant that, if the fairytales were right, Riku wasn't Sora's one true love. Which was fine, of course, really, because he'd only known Sora for a day, after all, but he'd…he'd grown attached to the boy. It would hurt. As much as Riku wanted to deny it, it would hurt. He liked Sora more than he thought he'd ever liked anyone, romantically or otherwise. It would only make sense that…but no, this was foolishness.

Then again, if he _did_ wake up, would that mean that they were stuck with each other for life, like it or not? Something in Riku's head said that it wouldn't be so bad if they were.

"I guess I could try it," he grumbled. "Seeing as we don't have any other options. Even though I don't think it will work."

"You'd be surprised," Roxas said wryly. "Magic is all around us."

Riku scowled, then softened, looking at Sora's peaceful, sleeping face. It wasn't so different from when Sora had fallen asleep in his lap in that garden, really. And how nice had that been? He leaned down and, very gently, pressed his lips to Sora's.

He pulled away, and waited. For a moment, nothing happened at all.

Then Sora's eyes flew open.

And, somehow, Riku didn't mind that he'd been proven wrong. He minded even less when Sora threw his arms around Riku's neck and hugged him.

"Hi," he said into Riku's shirt. "I feel so dizzy. Did I miss much?"

"Only a few hours," said Riku, wrapping his arms around the younger boy. "I was so worried about you. I…it's good to have you back."

Sora laughed. "You were that worried about _me_?"

"Yeah, well…" Riku shrugged. "Don't tell anyone. Hey, what's the last thing you remember?"

"Hmm…" Sora nuzzled against Riku's neck, then wrinkled his nose. "Marluxia making me tell him everything about what happened with Roxas, then forcing something awful down my throat. Then I got really dizzy. I'm surprised he was able to do that, actually…our metabolisms aren't like normal people's. Marluxia must be really good with his herbs…"

Roxas coughed.

Riku pushed Sora back so that he could see the other boy's face. Well, sort of. It was still a bit too dark to see. "What do you mean, 'normal people?'"

Sora looked down at the ground. "Um, I think…I have something to—"

"Hey, guys?" Roxas interjected. "Sorry, I mean, I know we've been building up to this for awhile, but can we get out of here before the big reveal? There's a prince up there who may or may not be being seduced by my stepmonster and stepsisters as we speak."

Incredibly relieved for a reason Riku didn't understand, Sora said, "Yeah, that sounds like a plan. Man, what did I miss? Where are we?"

"In Marluxia's cellar." Riku felt a familiar sinking in the pit of his stomach. "And we still don't know how we're going to get out."

Sora broke into a grin. "You're forgetting," he said. "I have a master key to everywhere."

Riku stared. "I love you," he said after a minute. "So much."

And he was surprised to find that he meant it.

---

The Old Mansion where Roxas lived, or worked as a maid, or something, was very large and grand and did indeed have a giant keyhole on the front of its gates, but Axel wasn't really in the mood to admire the scenery right then. Instead, he practically flew out of the coach, instructing the coachman to wait outside the house and not go anywhere, as he would be returning shortly. Then, after examining the gate, he decided the quickest way in would be to climb over the wall. So, after finding a section of wall which was sufficiently covered in vines, he did just that. It took a few minutes, but he got inside of the Mansions' grounds.

And, _finally_, he was at the door, a bit out of breath, but at the door. His heart was pounding wildly. He'd never been so nervous in his entire life. Not even that first time that Xemnas had caught him playing with tinder and flint in the stables, when he was six.

Axel had always been a bit of a thrill-seeker, but he thought that this burst of adrenaline might be enough to keep him satisfied for a long, long time.

Just as he raised his fist to knock, the door opened. He nearly exploded from the pressure. Surely, in a big house like this, the maid would answer the door? A butler would, of course, if they had one, but Axel rather hoped they didn't. Axel hoped it was the maid.

The door opened wider. It was not the maid.

Axel recognized the vaguely recognized woman in the doorway from the previous night's ball—Lady Mar-something?—but now, up close, he saw that she was not, in fact, a woman at all. His jaw was too defined, his build a bit too linear, not curvy enough, despite the corset and outrageous dress he wore. When he saw Axel, he leaned against the doorway in a manner which may have been an attempt at seductiveness and said, "My liege, what business could the Council of Five have at my humble home?"

So this was Roxas' stepmother. Ye gods.

The smirk on his—her?—whatever's face told Axel that Marluxia knew exactly why he had come. Being addressed as a Council member was vaguely confusing until Axel remembered that he was still wearing the Council robe and threw back the hood, revealing his face and the shocking red hair which most people considered quite memorable. Marluxia barely reacted. Perhaps his grin got a bit wider.

"Actually," Axel said, "I'm here for—"

"Your Highness!" Marluxia interjected, seizing Axel's wrist. "But of course. Come inside. I know exactly what you are here for."

"You do?" Axel asked as he was dragged through the foyer.

"Of course. This way."

Even though his emotions were threatening to dominate his mind, Axel still suspected a trap. Marluxia, who had thrown his daughters (if they were daughters at all) at him the night before, didn't seem like the person to be completely honest. Especially not when he had something to gain.

And Axel was right, because Marluxia led him into a very florally decorated sitting room and motioned for him to sit down on a white couch. Across from him, sitting on another couch separated by a low coffee table, were Marluxia's two daughters. Or, rather, now that Axel saw them close up, one daughter and one son, one much happier to be there than the other. He recognized Vexen's scowl and, with much more alarm, Larxene's smirk, almost an echo of her mother's.

"You have come to ask for one of my lovely daughters' hands in marriage, have you not?" Marluxia said, crossing the room and standing behind them, resting one hand on the couch. "Of course, we will have to work out some kind of arrangement with your father, but it was admirable of you to take the initiative and come here first. I admire that in a young man."

"Err," said Axel, who wasn't sure whether or not Roxas' stepmother was flirting with him. Somehow, he wouldn't put it past him.

Marluxia, for his part, sighed. "Clearly he's love struck. I can see that this conversation might take longer than expected. Larxene, darling, go put on some tea."

Larxene, her composure faltering, looked up at Marluxia. "Moth_er_, I've never had to do _that_. You always make Rox—"

"You are not to mention that name in my house!" Marluxia thundered. Everyone, including Axel, cringed. Smoothing out his dress, Marluxia fixed his smile in place again. "Larxene probably doesn't think she can prepare it to your Highness' standards. She's much too modest, my daughter. Much like my other daughter, Vexen." Vexen sighed. He clearly did not want to be here.

"Yes," said Axel. "I've…um…noticed."

Marluxia leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "Tell me, your Highness, which one of them caught your attention?"

"Um…"

"After all," Marluxia continued, "I've noticed that you seem to have a certain…preference…for blondes?"

Axel leapt to his feet. "Look," he said. "There's been some kind of grievous misunderstanding. I am not here for—"

"Tea?" asked someone, very softly, from the corner of the room. "Is his Highness sure he wouldn't want any tea?"

Axel's jaw dropped. Because there, right there, stood Roxas, tea tray in his hands, a little disheveled, a little dusty, but yes, definitely the same Roxas who had been at the market, and definitely the same boy from the ball. In the daylight, Axel could recognize him. And what he was _wearing_—

"Tea," Axel said. "Would be great. Actually. Yes. Excellent."

Marluxia was glaring daggers at the boy, whose eyes were fixed on Axel. "_You_," the evil stepmother hissed. "Get out of here. Go to—"

"My room?" Roxas finished mildly. "But his Highness wants tea."

"I do," Axel agreed. "I would very, very much want some tea. Very much."

"I can serve you," Larxene chimed in, standing and attempting to wrestle the tea tray away from Roxas, smiling at Axel the entire time. "I know how."

"Yes, but see…" Axel thought quickly. He was surprised his brain could handle it. "That's not the right type of tea. I should go into the kitchen and…explore the…teas which you have."

"I am well acquainted with our stock of teas. I can show his Highness," Roxas volunteered, somehow managing to keep the tea tray balanced while fielding off Larxene with one of his booted feet. "If his Highness still wants tea."

"Yes. His Highness most definitely wants tea." Axel crossed the room to Roxas, resisting the urge to throw his arms around the boy. For now.

"_Roxas_," Marluxia said very firmly, his voice strained. "You are not to go into that room with _that man_. I forbid it."

Axel turned to Marluxia and glared. "_You_," he said, thankful for once that he was a prince. "You don't have the right. Let him do whatever he wants." He turned back to Roxas and said, "Lead the way."

Roxas nodded, triumphant but obviously incredibly nervous, and walked out of the sitting room, Axel following behind. The walk to the kitchen seemed to take forever, but when they finally reached it, Roxas didn't immediately jump into Axel's arms. He was trembling, and he set his tea tray down on the counter and looked up at Axel for a moment before casting his eyes on the floor.

"I didn't know how to tell you," he said, embarrassed, pulling at the edge of his very short skirt. Was he wearing fishnets and _garters_? "I thought that if you knew…"

"No," Axel said. "No. _God_ no. _Roxas_. You're Roxas."

Evidently a bit confused, Roxas said, "Yes. I am."

"And you're the boy from the ball."

"…yes."

"Then that's good enough for me," Axel said, picking Roxas up and almost throwing them both into a nearby pantry. Thank God for kitchens. He closed the door. "That's good enough for me."

---

About ten, perhaps fifteen, minutes later, Roxas finally caught his breath enough to speak. "What the hell was _that_?" he asked, reaching up to straighten his white maid hat. "Not that I minded, I just didn't expect something so…extreme."

He could feel Axel grinning into his hair. "Impulse. When I saw you in that little maid outfit, I just couldn't resist."

"Your immediate impulse when you see me in short skirts is to throw me into pantries and ravish me?" Roxas grinned as he tried to fix said skirt. "God forbid I ever walk around naked."

"Mmn," Axel said. "It's a good idea. Let's—"

He reached for the back of Roxas' costume. Roxas, fumbling in the dark, pushed his hands away. "We can't. We've been gone too long already. I doubt your taste in tea is _that_ discriminating."

"I'm royal. We royalty are very particular."

"_Right_." Roxas pushed open the pantry door, blinking, bringing a hand up to shield his eyes from the light. "This is ridiculous. I feel like some kind of saucy wench."

Axel seized him around the waist and pulled him back. "You," he murmured, "Are _my_ saucy wench. Only better, since you're not a wench at all." He kissed right above Roxas' ear.

"We…" Roxas struggled to control his train of thought. Axel was kissing down his neck. "It's been too long. They're going to wonder where we've been."

"Let them wonder," Axel said.

Roxas was tempted to let 'them' do just that, but he had to stay logical about all of this. Hopefully, there would be time for all of this later. Hopefully. "No…that's…_bad_," he nearly gasped, as Axel's mouth found a particularly sensitive spot. "Axel, listen to me. We've got to leave. Marluxia…who knows what he'll do to get you to marry Larxene or Vexen."

Axel sighed, but he allowed Roxas to push him away. He still kept an arm around Roxas' waist, though. Roxas didn't mind. "I've got a coach outside," Axel said. "As soon as you're ready, we can get out of here."

Roxas went to the front window of the kitchen to look. The sight out there was rather confusing. "You brought three coaches?" he asked. "I don't have that much stuff."

"No, I…" Axel joined him and squinted. "Shit. Those aren't mine. That's Saïx. Or worse, my father. Or both. _Shit_. How did they find me?"

"Maybe they were just making the rounds with that shoe," Roxas suggested. "But it's a problem either way." He walked to the other end of the kitchen. "Either way, we have a back…"

He trailed off. Axel crossed to him again to see what the matter was. When he got there, he stared and didn't say anything for a minute or two. "There seem to be a lot of people in your garden," he managed. "What are they doing there?"

"I have no idea, but there's no way in hell we're getting out of here unseen," Roxas pressed his hand to his forehead. "And just when I thought everything was going to be _easier_…"

"Well, if we have my father on one side, and…_them_, on the other, I'm more inclined to go with them."

Roxas looked up at Axel and nodded. "Yeah. They seem nice. Your father seems a bit cold."

Axel shrugged. "Well, out of the frying pan, into the fire. Luckily, I like fire. Shall we go together?"

_Together_. Roxas smiled. "Of course. But can I change into reasonable clothes first? I don't want to go outside looking like this."

"Awh, and I so like that outfit on you." Roxas punched Axel lightly in the shoulder, then started to run up the servant's stairs. Something about that was oddly disappointing. Roxas rather didn't like that outfit. He liked pants. They were much more authentic.

"But you know what?" Axel added. "I think I like you in boy's clothes the best."

Roxas stopped. "Really?"

"Yeah. They're much more you."

A pause. "I…should go get changed," Roxas said after a moment. "But, in case something bad happens, you should know…I think I love you."

He waited for a reaction, and when a minute had passed and it looked like Axel wasn't going to say anything, he started up the stairs again, hoping he hadn't scared the prince away. But then Axel said, very quietly, "Yeah, me too. I think…me too," and Roxas smiled.

Was this what it felt like to be truly, guiltlessly happy?

If so, he adored it.

---

**_A/N: _**Yay! But who are those people outside of the gate? And will Sora tell Riku? And will Axel and Roxas escape in one piece? Well, you'll just have to wait about a week and see. -wink- Maybe if you review I'll let you guys know sooner!


	10. Chapter X: And They All Lived

**_A/N:_** OVER 100 REVIEWS!!! I am ecstatic. I've never had over 100 reviews on a story before! Thanks to **GoodnessKnows, loki lee, Teh Cynical, shadowknight66** (my 100th reviewer! Yay!), **Hyperactiveice, Lavender341, LawlietxRinoa, xAkuRoku., Kotaro362, Mitsuku Aki, Insanecat6, VanillaJewelz, Lanamax Kurosaki, Zexion Llama, Revolution Remix IX, Aindel S. Druida, Carmenliana, nextstopparadise, Lady Shisou**, and everyone who faved and alerted and reviewed at any point in time on this story! All of you win my life completely.

So this, Chapter X, is the last real chapter. Do not despair, there will be an epilogue! Truthfully, I feel so sad leaving this story; I love it to pieces. It's not perfect, but it's become my baby. It'll be so hard to see it go...

Ah well. Enjoy chapter ten, and thanks a bunch for reading!

---

**Chapter X**

"So," Riku said. "What did you want to tell me?"

He and Sora were sitting under that old oak tree in Marluxia's garden. Sora thought that was appropriate. He'd met Roxas here, he'd met Riku near here, and now he'd probably have to say goodbye to Riku here as well. It couldn't be avoided now. He didn't want to hurt Riku's feelings anymore than he had to. And if what Riku had said was true, and he'd been woken up through true love's kiss…

…it was going to hurt. A lot.

"Um," he said slowly. "Is there time? I mean, Axel and Roxas might need us back there soon. You know, for the final confrontation."

Riku grinned. "I don't think they'll need us for awhile. You saw what they were like. They probably don't even realize we've snuck off. They were that busy."

Sora did indeed remember how busy Axel and Roxas had been. The memory almost made him want to blush. Or maybe that was just brought on by how wonderful Riku looked there with the sunlight playing in his hair, and how Riku was holding his hand. It was funny how such a whirlwind relationship could have such sweet and simple moments, moments like this one. After all, Sora'd only just thought Riku was attractive in the beginning. He hadn't known him at all, really. Not when he'd taken him to the ball. And the initial attraction could have just faded when he'd woken up in the garden. But it hadn't. He felt right with Riku. He felt like he fit with Riku. He didn't really want to lose that.

"Then…maybe I should start from the beginning?" Sora asked.

"Beginning's a better place to start than the end." Riku ran his thumb over the back of Sora's hand. "Why do you look so sad?"

Sora breathed in. "Well, see, it's like…I can't…take you back home with me."

Riku raised an eyebrow. "Why? Am I too much of a bad boy for your parents? I don't have to wear black, you know. I could easily change my clothes. Just because I'm in touch with my dark side doesn't mean I rely on it completely for fashion sense."

"Stop!" Sora wanted to laugh, or scream, or cry. He ended up doing some mix of the three all at once. "Stop trying to cheer me up! This is serious!" He realized that he was shouting, and lowered his voice. "I just don't want to leave you."

Riku wrapped his arms around Sora's waist, resting his chin on the younger boy's shoulder. "I don't want you to leave either. Maybe we can work something out."

Sora sighed, or sobbed, or some riff on the both of them. "I don't think so. It's like…I'm not from around here. At all."

"Okay."

"Do you…" He didn't trust his voice to hold up. It was getting softer on him with each passing moment. "Do you want to try to guess where I'm from?"

"Is it bigger than a bread box?"

"You're so evil."

"I know." Riku looked up at the thick, healthy branches of the oak tree. "Let's see…you're not from Mongolia, are you? I always thought Mongolians would be hairier."

Sora shook his head. "I'm not from Mongolia."

"Good. The Huns never seemed like a nice group of people. Hmm…the Underworld? Dead people aren't quite my cup of tea either."

"Closer," Sora said, completely meaning it. "I still don't think you're taking this seriously. I'm pouring my heart out to you, you know."

Riku grinned, running his fingers through a bit of Sora's hair. "Sorry. Look, before I continue, can I tell you something?"

Sora felt like he was trying to talk down a brick wall. Maybe if Riku had a chance to talk, he'd be able to collect his nerves and actually get somewhere. "Anything."

"You know that I don't believe in magic, right? We had that conversation last night in the carriage."

Nodding, his heart pounding, Sora said, "I always thought not believing in magic seemed sort of boring. I was sad for you."

"Yes, well, you've changed my mind. Just a little." When Sora said nothing, Riku added. "I don't mean I'm about to believe that unicorns or gnomes are going to come waltzing up to us. But—and I know how stupid this sounds, trust me—when I first saw you yesterday, I did feel _something_ right off the bat. I wasn't about to drop on one knee and begin reciting sappy love poetry, because, let's be serious, that whole concept is pretty damn embarrassing, but I did feel something. And I thought it would go away, you know, maybe after the night. And it didn't. I'm not going to call it 'love at first sight' or anything, but it was something I hadn't ever felt before. That's the type of magic I'm _willing_ to believe in, Sora. The magic of—of whatever we have. Do you know what I mean? It sounds ridiculous, but I'm not sure what else to say.

"The point is, whatever you're going to tell me, I won't care. You won't shock me. You've turned just about everything upside-down for me anyway. I haven't always been this easygoing, this _good_. You're some kind of incredibly positive influence, and I love you." Riku squeezed him. "So just say what you need to say."

Sora paused. Then, after a moment, he said, "I rode a unicorn once. It wasn't that exciting. It threw me off."

Riku laughed.

"No," Sora said. "We have a herd of them at home. My—one of my old teachers, Aerith—she likes them, except for when they eat the flowers in her garden. Sometimes…" He swallowed. "Sometimes there are gnomes in her garden, too. She doesn't like them at all. I don't blame her. They're pretty ugly."

Sora felt Riku sit up a little straighter. "What are you trying to tell me?"

He sighed. "I'm not…from around here, Riku. Um…I'm not even from a real country. Maybe…can I show you instead?"

Riku nodded against his back, so Sora stood up and walked a few paces away. Squeezing his eyes shut, he took a deep breath and conjured up a little bit of magic, just enough to revert back to his normal appearance. He shook a bit as he felt his wings sprouting out of his back, wondering if Riku was repulsed. If he were Riku, he would be repulsed. When it was over, he couldn't bring himself to turn around.

Sora waited for Riku to make a sound. Finally, unable to stand one more second of silence, he asked, "Well?"

"Those have to be the girliest wings I have ever seen," Riku said.

"Sh-shut up!" Sora stammered, turning around. "They're not girly! They're graceful and—and—they'll change in a year or two—"

He hadn't been paying very close attention to what Riku was doing until he felt the hands on his shoulders pulling him foreword. Riku kissed his forehead. "I think they're very pretty," he said, grinning, running a hand along the edge of one of the fragile, translucent wings. "Pretty in a very girly way."

"Riku!" Sora exclaimed, trying to bat the offending hand away. "Stop! That tickles! You're not supposed to touch other people's wings; it's bad etiquette."

"Hum," Riku said, studying Sora. "So they are real. A few people at my old school had these, but I always thought…" He flicked the tip of one of Sora's wings. Sora flinched. "You felt that?"

"Of course!" Sora exclaimed. "You bully, that hurt."

"Hum," Riku said again. "This…changes things." He blinked. "What would you say you are?"

"A fairy," Sora nearly whispered. "Riku, I'm so _sorry_ I didn't tell you before, I just thought you'd think I was freak, and you didn't bel_ieve_ in magic or anything, and I was afraid, because I liked you so much."

"I do think you're a freak. But…" Riku drew him in and hugged him. "You're my freak, and whether you have wings or fins or—God forbid—cat ears, that doesn't change anything. I'll have to learn to live with it." He thought for a minute. "This makes a lot more sense, actually. I was struggling to rationalize how that key of yours worked, and was coming up with nothing. So it's…"

"It's a wand," Sora said. "A _magic_ wand."

Riku scratched at the back of his neck. "Ah."

"Yeah."

He shrugged. "It's going to take some getting used to. But we have time."

"We don't!" Sora blurted. Goodness, he hadn't even thought about how to bring _this _conundrum up, but it seemed to be coming of its own free will. "_Riku_, I have to go back to Fairyland tonight to report to my tutor and some other high-ranking fairies about how I did on this mission. And I can't…I can't bring you back with me." He hid his face in Riku's shirt. "I'm so sorry."

Riku didn't quite know what to say to that. "Stop apologizing," he said eventually. "We'll think of something. I don't know what, but we'll think of _something_ together. Alright?"

Sora nodded. "Alright." He managed a weak smile. "I'm glad. I thought you were going to reject me."

"I'm not _that_ fickle." Riku tilted up Sora's chin so that the younger boy could look him in the eyes. "You're glowing."

"Yeah," Sora said softly. "I do that."

Behind them, someone coughed. "Sorry, I don't really want to interrupt," said a girl's voice, vaguely familiar. "But we were wondering if you could lend us a hand for a minute? We could use some help."

Riku released Sora, who staggered a few steps backwards in surprise. He blinked, wondering why, right in the middle of Marluxia's garden, stood… "Naminé?"

Naminé, whose gown this morning was blue satin, and who had a small tiara in her hair, sighed. She looked very pretty, and a bit agitated, wringing her hands. "I'm sorry, I'll explain in a minute. Axel and Roxas have agreed to help us, and they said they thought you would be around here somewhere…Sora, Roxas said you might be particularly useful." She looked from one of them to the other. "Will you come with me?"

They glanced at each other. "Well," Sora said, "I don't know about Riku, but I certainly can't refuse a damsel in distress."

"I'm in if he is," Riku said. "Why not?"

Naminé nodded. "Good," she said. "Follow me."

And they did.

---

Roxas and Axel reentered the sitting room hand-in-hand, expecting to face a deafening explosion from Marluxia, Larxene, and whichever members of the Council of Five happened to be there.

What they saw was much more scarring.

"Axel," said Xemnas, who was sitting on one of the sofas, a cup full of tea set in front of him, "Meet your new stepmother."

Marluxia smiled at them most deviously.

Axel looked at Roxas. Roxas looked at Axel. They both felt the same strange urge to double over with pained laughter and die. Death would have been easier to bear than…this. For heaven's sake, anything would have been easier to bear than this.

"Only a diversion," Axel muttered under his breath, softly enough that only Roxas heard. "We're only a diversion. We just have to keep them talking."

"Um," Roxas said. For the life of him, he couldn't think of anything to say. What? Why? _How_? "Uh. Congratulations? When's the wedding?"

"What the hell are you talking about, my 'new stepmother?!'" Axel cried. The Council of Five—all of whom were present, and standing behind the sofa—blinked at him in confusion. _As if_, Roxas though with amusement, _marrying Marluxia were the most natural thing in the world_. He noticed vaguely that Saïx was holding a red cushion in his hands, on which a very familiar object rested. But he tucked that thought away for future use.

"It means what it sounds like," Marluxia said mildly. "Don't raise your voice at me, young man."

Axel gawked. Roxas, on the other hand, wondered if Axel would receive the same treatment that he had received from Marluxia, and got a mental kick out of imagining Axel in a maid outfit.

"Your Majesty," he said, addressing his soon-to-be step-stepfather, "If I may ask, I'm somewhat curious as to how this came about. Um, your engagement. And so soon."

"Too soon," Axel groaned.

Xemnas regarded Roxas thoughtfully, and Roxas felt that he had been recognized, at least to some small degree, that the King was trying to puzzle out where he had seen this strange blond boy before. Curiously enough, Xemnas didn't seem angry that Axel was holding hands with a boy. Well, he had other things on his mind. "It was a matter of politics," he said, his voice unexpressive.

"Politics, your Majesty?"

"Yes. Your stepmother and I were having a conversation about this situation with Axel. She pointed out to me that, instead of going to all of this trouble with Axel, I could simply remarry and produce another heir. And Lady Marluxia was glad to volunteer."

"We have a lot in common," Marluxia said. "We graduated from the same secondary school."

"Why am I not surprised?" Roxas sighed.

"Um," said Axel, who did not fail to see the error in the Marluxia-bearing-children logic. "What—"

"Of course, if your father and I have no children, he can adopt mine," Marluxia said smoothly. "And the people will be in such terror of them ever ruling that they will insist your father keep his throne until the end of his days. It would be a perfect arrangement. The Council agrees."

The Council nodded, each member looking a bit bleary-eyed and strangely unfocused. Roxas wondered what the cause was. Surely the men would have enough common sense to object to this marriage?

"I don't think royalty works like that," Axel said, shell-shocked.

Roxas nodded. "Marluxia put something in that tea," he whispered fiercely. "I'm sure of it. The moment he marries your father, he'll force him to declare that Marluxia is royalty as well, then probably poison him. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if that was what happened to my father…sneaky bastard."

"Just keep talking?" Axel asked, looking rather pale.

"Yes. Until we make sure that the whole situation is under control." A pause. "And don't drink any tea," Roxas added.

"You don't have to tell me twice." Axel turned back to Marluxia, Xemnas, and the rest of the Council, to whom Larxene was dispensing more tea. Vexen was nowhere to be seen. He had probably used the welcome distraction to flee the sitting room and change into some real clothing. "Well, Dad, and…Mom," Axel said, wondering how such small words could feel so difficult, could make him want to choke with laughter. "Since you won't need me around, I guess I'll be able to get out of your hair. Roxas and I were thinking of taking a nice vacation."

"But that's ridiculous," Marluxia said. "Roxas is the best maid I have."

"What? No! Dad, tell my, um, stepmom that I can take Roxas with me on a cruise. It'll be much easier than keeping him around here." Axel nodded, placing his hand on Roxas' shoulder. "You know, one less mouth to feed. And he'll help get rid of me. You've always wanted to get rid of me, right?"

Xemnas merely blinked. Well, from what Roxas had seen of him, he never had been that expressive. This, however, was a bit much. "I'm sorry, son, but I must do whatever the Lady Marluxia says."

"Um," Roxas said. "What?"

"I'm sorry, son, but I must do whatever the Lady Marluxia says."

"Excellent," Axel muttered. "Just peachy. She's turned my father into a zombie. Although…" He scratched his chin. "I kind of like him this way. He's always nosing into my personal affairs when he's normal. This is a good change."

"_Axel!_" Roxas hissed.

"Ah, right, right." Axel looked back at Marluxia and said, "Well, then, I want to buy your maid."

Marluxia raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Buy your maid. Got it memorized?"

"I'm afraid he's not for sale," Marluxia said coolly.

"I'm right here, you know," Roxas piped up. But he was ignored. Marluxia and Axel were staring at each other with open disdain. "Hello? Anyone listening?"

No response.

Roxas sighed. "I suppose I'll have to take matters into my own hands," he said, shrugging Axel's hand from his shoulder and stepping forward. Only Larxene seemed to notice that he had moved at all, but she was serving Lexaeus tea and didn't seem to care.

Ordinarily, Roxas would be a bit frightened, nervous at being so bold. But he did not. He knew exactly what he needed to do, and how he needed to do it. He just wasn't sure if it would work.

When he stepped in front of Saïx, the Prime Minister looked right through him, and Roxas supposed he had to thank Marluxia for that. Saïx was much less intimidating when he was staring into space. But Roxas wasn't concerned with Saïx himself, and he directed his attention instead to the red velvet cushion which the Prime Minister was holding.

Whatever Xemnas' original intent had been in coming to the mansion—chasing after his wayward son, no doubt, although Roxas supposed they might never know—the Council had assembled here for only one reason: to slip the glass slipper on the eager feet of the maidens of the house, only one of whom was actually a maiden. Roxas had worried, before, about how he would get his foot inside that slipper, and now it was sitting on the cushion, waiting for him, sparkling in the sunlight which flooded through the sitting room windows. Roxas lifted it easily off the cushion and turned to the King.

"Your Majesty, you've been looking for the girl who ran away from your son last night at the ball, is that correct?"

Xemnas, stoic as ever, nodded.

"And that you believe that your son really loves this girl?"

"Roxas," Marluxia said, a warning. He was getting edgy. Roxas must be on the right track.

"In fact," Roxas continued, "You think that it might be…true love?"

"True love," Xemnas repeated, as if the words were strangely familiar. "It does have a certain ring to it, yes."

Axel, too, was looking at Roxas with curiosity. "What are you doing?" he asked.

Roxas drew a breath, then smiled. "I learned something," he said. "From two friends of mine, when I was trapped in the cellar. They showed me that love—_real_ love—breaks all sorts of boundaries, magical and otherwise. So, I think…" He looked down at the slipper. "You don't just have to be in love to have it affect you. If you see it…it moves you, somehow. Love does that. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Sort of," said Axel. "But go on."

He shook his head. "No. I'm afraid I'm not going to make anymore sense than this. I just want to know one more thing. You'd say that you fell in love with the person who wore this slipper last night at the ball?"

"I would."

"Would you swear it? Here? In front of your father and everyone?"

Axel's green eyes shone, and he looked up at Roxas with a smile. "Yes," he said, his voice ringing in clear, confident tones. "I would."

"Then," Roxas said, "That might be enough."

And, worming his foot out of his shoe, he slipped the glass slipper onto his foot.

It fit perfectly.

Roxas breathed a sigh of relief, and he felt Axel wrap his arms around him from behind. "I knew that," he murmured in Roxas' ear. "What did you need to go through all that trouble for?"

"You knew that," Roxas said. "But they didn't. And I didn't think they'd trust you if you just said you loved me. It worked better that way. The shoe itself had a bit of magic. Sora made it, after all."

And, indeed, Xemnas blinked again. It wasn't much of a change, but he did seem a bit more lucid. He shook his head, as if to clear it, and his eyes scanned the sitting room. Although his face betrayed no emotion, Roxas thought he looked rather like he was trying to figure out where he was, and how he'd gotten there. Many of the other Council members were trying to figure out the same thing, if a bit more expressively than the King was.

"True love," said Vexen from the doorway. Roxas blinked. It was the first time he'd ever seen his stepbrother in trousers. "Exposure to it can overpower the strongest of potions. Unfortunately, there is no scientific remedy." Vexen offered Marluxia a thin lipped smile. "I'm sorry, Mother. It looks like they've thwarted you."

"Lies," Marluxia snarled. "It will still be a few minutes before they've fully recovered. Larxene, more tea. Now."

"A few minutes?" Axel echoed. "Well then. Roxas, what do you say we—"

"Already on it," Roxas said. "Sora! Now!"

It was hard to say what happened in those next confused moments. Sora, brandishing his Keywand, entered through the doorway, yelling "Don't move!" Of course, he wasn't allowed to use magic on any of the people in the room, but the only ones who knew that were Axel and Roxas. Riku had leapt out behind him, brandishing what looked like a coat rack. But the sudden appearance of a fairy and a random teenage boy, though surprising, was the least of their troubles, and, after a moment of shocked silence, everyone who wasn't Axel or Roxas was rather preoccupied with the sudden influx of black-suited guards who had rushed into the room when Roxas shouted.

"Dude," said Xigbar, who found himself rather befuddled and staring at the wrong end of a sword, held by one of the mysterious guards. "Not cool."

That particular guard pulled back his mask and gave Xigbar a puppyish grin. "You can say that again," said Demyx, former slave boy. "Hello, Xiggy."

Roxas didn't understand what was going on, but it was rather amusing to see the one-eyed Council member's jaw drop. "You," he managed. "What?"

Demyx scratched his head. "See, it turns out I actually am a spy," he said, still smiling. "Head of intelligence. I had you fooled pretty well, though, didn't I? It was fun pretending to be a slave. And when I saw that King Xemnas had no better use for his advisors than to send him chasing after his son, well…we figured the time was ripe for a coup. Seems like we were right!"

Xigbar didn't seem able to wrap his head around it. "Head of intelligence? For whom?"

"Me," said a deep, sonorous voice.

All eyes turned towards the front entrance of the sitting room. In the doorway stood a regal man with light blond hair and flowing red robes. The way he stood practically emanated power. One of his hands rested on Naminé's shoulder, and they both wore a look of equal determination.

"You," Xemnas said, his voice laden with hatred. "_Ansem_."

"Yes," said Ansem. "It is I, Ansem the Wise, come to reclaim the throne, which, I might add, is rightfully mine."

"You," Xemnas repeated, a bit louder. "I exiled you!"

"You did," Ansem the Wise agreed. "You exiled me for eighteen long years. However, you could not get rid of me completely. I traveled the countryside under the alias of DiZ, gathering followers, waiting until the right moment to exact my revenge, relying on trusted aides like Demyx—" Demyx nodded. "—and my daughter, Naminé." Naminé inclined her golden head. "And these young men for their remarkable diversions," Ansem added, indicating Roxas, Axel, Sora, and Riku, who had joined them.

"Nice distraction," Riku said to Roxas, setting his coat rack aside. "It bought us time to get into the house. But why did you break Marluxia's hold on Xemnas? Wouldn't it have been easier to capture him like he was then?"

"Easier," Roxas said. "But not nearly as satisfying. Right, your Majesty?" Xemnas glared at Roxas. "I mean, your _real_ Majesty."

"Quite right," Ansem said. "Revenge is sweeter this way." He raised his hand and commanded, "Take them away."

The guards went about restraining Xemnas and the Council of Five, who tried to resist but were, unfortunately, outnumbered and still partially in a tea-induced stupor. Even Saïx could not completely recover his wits, and the most he did was snarl at some of the guards who got near him. Xemnas was outraged, and he wasn't the only one.

"But, _oh_!" Marluxia cried, flinging himself forward and latching onto Ansem's arm. He raised the pitch of his voice to sound slightly more feminine and gave the most pitiful look he could possibly manage. "You would take my fiancé away from me?"

Ansem looked skeptical, and rightfully so. "Your fiancé?"

Marluxia stood and brushed his skirts off. "Yes. Xemnas." He paused, and offered Ansem a most charming smile. "Unless, of course, _you_ want some tea."

"I'll pass." Ansem stroked his beard. "However, you have given me an excellent idea, er, Lady Marluxia. Xemnas shall remain in this mansion with you for the rest of his days."

Marluxia shrugged. "That's very generous of you, your Majesty, but are you sure you wouldn't like some tea?" He motioned Larxene forward. "It's hot."

"Very," Larxene added, with a wink.

Naminé looked positively traumatized. "Father?"

"I'm sorry. Naminé and I must be going. We have a country to rule." He gave Marluxia a stern look. "You are staying _here_, Marluxia. Unless you want to share the dungeon with your fiancé."

"No, your Majestly," Marluxia said mildly, although Roxas could tell he was not thrilled by this turn of events. "Your Majesty is most kind. Since it seems I am losing my current maid…"

Xemnas, who was only just coming to terms with his current situation, let out a low groan. It surprised everyone, because this was the most emotive their former king had ever been. Ever. Perhaps in his lifetime. The collective Council almost fainted.

Ansem then turned to Axel. "As for you—"

Axel held up his hand in a gesture of surrender. "Woah, woah, I helped you out, didn't I? I'm not about to take your throne." He thought for a second. "As long as, of course, you pay me a tidy sum _per annum_. You know, just to make sure I don't run off and raise an army and come back. Being a prince was kind of fun, maybe being a king would be…"

Ansem sighed. "Fine. The demand is reasonable, and you did help me reclaim my throne."

Roxas grinned. "Good deal. You should have gone into politics," he said to Axel. "You know, actually."

Shrugging, Axel put his arm around Roxas' shoulders. "Not my cup of tea, er, so to speak. I'm much better off spending the rest of my days with you, doing positively nothing."

"I can live with that," said Roxas, leaning into Axel's arm and looking up at him. "It's the good life."

"Well," said Naminé, offering them both a smile. "I'm glad to see that everything has worked out so well."

"Almost everything," Riku added quietly.

Sora's eyes widened, and he looked out the window of the sitting room, where the sun was fast retreating behind the jagged line of the far away forest. "Oh my gosh, it's almost sunset!" he exclaimed. "When did that happen? I…" He drew a long breath. "Alright. We have a couple of things to get out of the way."

He looked at Roxas, who had been busy staring at Axel and was not happy to be interrupted. "What?"

"There's something I'm supposed to tell you before I go," Sora said, fidgeting a little. "Something which I can't imagine you'd be interested in, but which I need to tell you anyway. See, only certain people can summon fairies. Usually, these people find some kind of magical object. In your case, the Keywand."

Roxas nodded, not quite sure where Sora was going with this.

"Well, someone has to be a bit magical themselves to be able to find one of these objects. Meaning…" Sora paused again. "You have the potential to become a fairy, too. That is, if you want to, you could come back with me. It's the ultimate escape plan we have—in case the fairy in charge of your case happens to mess up, they can take you away to somewhere much nicer."

Grinning, looking up at Axel, Roxas said, "I think I'm fine here with true love, thanks. And don't worry, Sora. You were an excellent fairy godself."

This consolation seemed to do very little to cheer Sora, who turned back to Riku with a sigh. "Riku, I'm sorry, I know it's not fair…I wish there were something I could do…"

But Riku didn't look at Sora. Instead, he stuck his hand in his pocket and rifled around for something. Roxas couldn't see what he pulled out, but it was small and black and sparkled a bit in the fading daylight. "Does this count?" Riku asked. "I found it in Vexen's lab and wasn't quite sure what it was, so I decided to hang onto it. I know it's a bit of a long shot, but…"

Sora stared at the object in Riku's hand in shock. "But this is…" He lunged forward and hugged Riku, who was taken aback but didn't mind one bit. "Riku, you're incredible! But why didn't you use it to get out of the cellar?"

Riku blinked. "Is it a Keywand? I didn't know…I mean, it didn't _look_ like a key, although I hadn't really thought about it before. And it's so _small_."

"Well, yeah, they tend to stay in one size until they're activated. But I can take care of that for you right now." Sora was grinning so hard that Roxas was afraid his face might split in two. "Here, hold it. And give me your hand."

Puzzled, Riku did as Sora said. Sora offered him a reassuring smile and laid his hand on top of Riku's, then closed his eyes and muttered something.

Roxas, Axel, and the rest of the room watched in wonder as a golden glow enveloped the two boys. Sora didn't change at all, and stood there, still grinning at Riku, but Riku, his face twisting in surprise, began to hover an inch or two off of the ground. Something bright unfolded from his back, shining and growing and looking very uncomfortable. Riku seemed frozen as the transformation took place. The object he and Sora held lengthened as well, glowing even more brightly than what Roxas assumed was Riku's new wing.

Then, as quickly as it appeared, the glow vanished, and Riku fell forward into Sora's arms, his new Keywand—which, Roxas thought, looked more like a bat wing than a key—clattering to the ground. His fingers dug into Sora's back as he tried to regain his balance.

"Guess I better believe in magic now," he said, smiling despite his sudden weakness. "What does it look like?"

"It?" Sora said, looking over Riku's shoulder. Then, realizing, he exclaimed, "You only have one! Riku, you only have one wing!"

Roxas, who had been temporarily blinded by the glow, blinked and realized that Sora was right. Riku's one wing fluttered behind him like a banner, black and feathered like the wing of a bird. It was amusing to watch Riku crane his neck to catch a glimpse of it. "What does that mean?" Roxas asked. "Don't fairies usually have two wings?"

"Usually," Sora said, unable to prevent himself from reaching out and touching it. "But in special cases…I'm trying to remember…it either means that you're a mix of dark and light or…or that you're really, really dark, and your true nature just isn't showing yet. I think it's the first one for you, but it'll take some time to figure out. Most fairies are predominately one or the other. Actually, there's only one other one-winged fairy, and everyone thought he was pretty much alright until he went completely berserk one day. But I'm not worried about you." He brushed Riku's wings again with the tips of his fingers. "It's an adult wing, too," he muttered enviously. "I'm so jealous. I won't get bird wings until I turn eighteen. Cloud said so."

"Cloud?"

"My tutor. Oh, you'll get to meet him. Riku, you'll get to meet _everyone_. I'm so—" Sora didn't seem to be able how to express how he felt with words, so he kissed Riku instead, and Riku wrapped his arms around Sora, and it was completely obvious that the two of them had completely forgotten that anyone else existed.

Ansem the Wise coughed in a very dignified manner.

"Oh," Sora squeaked, pulling away. "Um."

"Kids these days," Axel chided.

Roxas elbowed him. "Hypocrite."

Riku, however, looked satisfied, not embarrassed. "We'll be off, then."

"Be sure to write," Axel said.

"And take care of yourselves," Roxas added. "Alright? No more crashing balls."

"Will do," Sora said. He took Riku's hand, closed his eyes, smiled one last glorious time, and muttered something in another language. The two boys promptly vanished, Keywands and all, the only trace that they had ever been there at all a single black feather, slowly floating towards the ground.

Which was promptly snatched up by Vexen, who held it between his thumb and index finger, studying it in the fading daylight. "This will require further study," he announced, and turned on his heel to return to his basement laboratories.

There was about a minute where no one was sure of quite what to say. "Well," Naminé managed finally. "_Now_ I'm glad to see that everything turned out so well. Shall we go, Father?"

"Yes," Ansem said, snapping his fingers. He swept out of the room, and the guards followed behind him, some with Council members in tow.

"I wonder if Ansem will let me keep you," Demyx was saying to a still-confused Xigbar as they passed through the doorway. "After all, it would only be fair…" And then they, too, were gone.

"Well," Marluxia said. "Now that that horrible man is out of our house, I believe I have some outfits which would look wonderful on you. And, of course, we need to start planning the wedding, and how to take back your kingdom."

"Wedding?" Xemnas repeated glumly. "I never agreed to this."

"Yes, you did," the pink-haired transvestite insisted. "Won't it be wonderful to have a father again, Larxene?"

"Wonderful, Daddy," Larxene said, a terrifying smile on her face.

Xemnas attempted, without much success, to splutter a reply.

"It seems like he's forgotten all about it," Marluxia said, frowning. "It seems more tea is in order. Larxene, if you would help me with your father—he is a very stubborn man, but there are ways of fixing that."

And, together, mother and daughter dragged a miserable Xemnas into the kitchen, forgetting completely about the two other occupants of the living room.

Axel took the opportunity to flop down onto the couch. "Alone at last," he said most dramatically. "Thank goodness. I thought they'd never leave." He patted his thigh. "Come here, you."

Roxas went over, sitting down in Axel's lap as the older man wrapped his arms around Roxas' waist. "It looks like we did get a happy ending," Roxas mused. "After all of that."

"Mhm." Axel nestled his head on Roxas' shoulder. "Well, what do you want to do now?"

"Sleep for ages, I think," said Roxas, yawning. "I didn't get a lot of sleep last night, and it's been a long day. And then…maybe eat something?"

Axel squeezed him affectionately. "Boring. Although, honestly, that does sound like a good plan. I'm starving."

"Yeah. There will be time for other stuff later."

"There better be." Axel grinned and kissed Roxas' cheek. "But I meant…after we get out of here. What do you want to do? I was thinking we could go to Italy, or Greece. I think you'd like Greece. It's warm. Sunny. Maybe we could get a boat and sail out into the Mediterranean. Just the two of us."

"Mmm…"

"We deserve a vacation, I think."

"Mhm."

"And you'll never have to clean anything for the rest of your life, Roxas. Roxas? Are you listening, Roxas?"

But Roxas had already drifted off to sleep, warm in Axel's arms. But Axel didn't mind. Instead, he picked Roxas up, kissed him lightly, and carried him out to the carriage, which was waiting by the gates of the old mansion, waiting to take them off on brand new adventures, none of which would involve maid outfits, or cleaning, or tyrants, or glass slippers, or anything that complicated at all.

---

The glass slipper sat on the coffee table, forgotten. No one needed it anymore.

Because a happy ending is all that anyone can ask for.

---

**_A/N: _**IT'S OVARRR. Well, no, not really. There is an epliogue. But I had known it was going to end like this since almost he beginning. Okay, that's a lie. Since chapter six. Ansem the Wise is the Fortinbras of this story!

Keep an eye out for the epilogue, and let me know what you thought! Lovee and many cookies.


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